Banished
by Titan5
Summary: This is an AU ending to the season five episode Inquisition. Let's just say that John is not a happy camper.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is an alternate ending of the fifth season episode _Inquisition._ It begins near the end of the episode. Woolsey has finished answering all of the charges. The first statement by Dimas is from the episode, but everything after that is AU. Also, many thanks to Rosalee for continuing to beta for me and correct lots of embarrassing and goofy mistakes.

I've been trying to load this to ffnet for almost a month. I think maybe it's finally going to work! Keeping my fingers crossed . . .

Banished – Chapter One

"Very well," said Dimas. "As that was the final charge, we will recess to deliberate."

Woolsey was escorted by the guards to a small room down the hall to wait for their decision. He sat for a while, but grew concerned as he'd expected the verdict to be arrived at quickly. He was about to ask the guards to take him to Sheppard's team when they returned to tell him a decision had been made and they were to escort him to the courtroom. Straightening his uniform, he fell into step behind them, confident that the ordeal would soon be over for all.

oOo

John paced the length of the cell before pausing to stare out toward the doorway. "I wish they'd just get it over already. I hate waiting. And waiting . . . and waiting."

"Yes, well I'm not in that big of a hurry to be dumped on some uninhabited planet in the middle of nowhere to starve to death so they can say they didn't execute us. Murder once removed. Apparently that soothes their warped conscious," said Rodney with a huff.

"Think positive, Rodney," said John.

"That's what you always say," said Rodney.

"They're coming," said Ronon as he walked over to stand beside John. Teyla and Rodney joined them as Woolsey walked into the room.

John knew immediately that things had not gone well. Woolsey's expression spoke of defeat. His head dropped to his chest for a moment while he processed that and pulled himself back together. "I'm guessing we have a one-way ticket to oblivion."

Woolsey stood there looking at them for a moment before sighing. "Not everyone. They were willing to admit that we had good intentions and that we have done some good. I knew Shiana would vote against us no matter what. Her level of hatred cannot be appeased. I thought I had either with logic or . . . a sort of bribery convinced the other two to vote in our favor. Apparently I have lost my touch."

"We know that you did everything in your power to have us set free," said Teyla.

"How badly are we screwed?" asked Rodney, his lips pulled thin in worry.

"Just tell us, Richard," said John. "We know it's not your fault. We probably came off better with you than we ever would have without you."

Woolsey nodded and glanced at each member of the team. "The council was willing to impart some leniency since everything was done with the proper motives and we have helped quite a few people in the galaxy. But they agreed with Shiana that there had to be some sort of retribution for the many who have lost their lives."

They were silent for several moments before John spoke, a tight knot in his gut. "They still want someone to be banished to that planet for the rest of their life."

Woolsey nodded and looked at John. "They agreed to let everyone else go, but you are to be the scapegoat, as such. You are to bear the sentence alone."

"No," the others cried and began to argue against the plan. John gripped the bars, pooling his strength and pushing the fear and dread to far corner of his mind. "Stop." He waited for everyone to stop talking and looked at Richard. "They go back with you, unharmed, to Atlantis."

"Yes," Woolsey said, never breaking eye contact.

John slowly let out a breath, pushing down the storm of emotions as he took control of his expression. He could do this, as long as his team was safe. "Okay."

"How can you just say okay? This is not okay," said Rodney, his voice rising in pitch.

"Sheppard, no! This isn't fair and we aren't leaving you here," said Ronon, his brow furrowed in anger.

"There isn't a choice," John said, turning to face his team. "You go back and figure out how to find me. Then we never let these bastards trick us again."

"No, John, there must be another way," said Teyla. "We cannot let them abandon you on that planet alone. Someone must go with you."

"No, they don't," John said. "Look, guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but they hold all the cards here. Just . . . go back with Woolsey. All I've got to do is keep myself alive for a while until you have a chance to track me down. Piece of cake."

Rodney shook his head and waved his arms. "No, it's not. Do you know how long it will take to find you with no leads? We'll have to check every habitable planet in the database, and that's assuming this one is in the database. It could take years, colonel."

John's stomach dropped as he thought about spending years piddling around on a planet by himself. Who was he kidding? He probably wouldn't last years unless there were some really good sources of readily available food. Chances are they were sending him to some desert planet to die.

"That may be, Dr. McKay, but as Colonel Sheppard has pointed out, we don't exactly have a choice here. I argued against this with everything I could think of. I even threatened to withhold help from any coalition planet that was attacked by the Wraith," said Woolsey.

"It's all right, Richard," said John when he found his voice. "I know you did what you could. Thank you for getting my team released. For that I'll always be grateful."

"Mr. Woolsey," said Shiana as she strode into the room, smug expression firmly in place. "I assume you have informed your people about what is to transpire. The sentence is to be carried out immediately," she said, staring at John with ill-disguised hatred. "The guards will take Colonel Sheppard to get the supplies he will be given and then you will be allowed a few minutes to say goodbye."

"Wait," said Rodney. "Let _us_ give him supplies so he at least has a chance at surviving this mess."

Shiana shook her head. "That will not be necessary, Dr. McKay. We will give him what he needs to survive. This is not to be a pleasure trip."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Yes, because a basic field kit with food, water, medical supplies, and such is exactly what he needs for a fun filled vacation on planet abandonment."

Shiana huffed while the other two council members looked awkwardly at the floor. "Colonel Sheppard will be given the supplies he will need. Atlantis will honor this or you will be forced to leave now."

Woolsey held up one hand. "Dr. McKay, please. Do not make this any more difficult." He moved his eyes from McKay to Shiana. "The council is within their rights to make life as difficult and miserable as they can since they are being so _benevolent_ as to not execute him outright." Shiana pursed her lips but did not say anything.

Two guards unlocked the door to the cell and John walked out. One of them grabbed his arm and he jerked it back. "I can walk, but thanks anyway," he said sarcastically. As they passed Shiana, he paused and stared at her. "I feel sorry for you and not because of your family. Everyone experiences tragedy. It's how you react to it that determines who you are. By deciding to take the route of hate and vengeance, you've probably condemned even more people to death. "

He sighed and shook his head. "You and the Genii are your own worst enemies. We could have accomplished so much together and instead you choose to waste valuable resources. As long as people like you have any power, the Wraith will continue to rule this galaxy." He walked out, glancing at Kelore and Dimas who were standing in the doorway with their heads bowed. "Enjoy your new queen," he said. "She kind of reminds me of a Wraith queen I met once."

It was childish and probably no one who needed to consider the meaning of his comment cared enough to understand it, but it made him feel marginally better. Realistically, no one would be able to rescue him. He would still hope, but he had to go on the assumption that they would be unable to find him.

The guards led him into a small room down the hall and searched him. Since he'd spent the last few days in a cell, he wasn't sure what they thought he had on him. He supposed he should feel lucky they left him his clothes and boots. One of them went into what appeared to be a closet and rummaged around a few minutes. He returned with a cloth bag about the size of a backpack.

"Here," the guy said, thrusting the bag to him. John grabbed it and looked inside. "You'll find a length of strong twine, a flint, a small knife, and enough food for a few days if you eat light. There is also a container of water. You'll probably want to find a clean water source pretty quickly though because there isn't much."

John stared at the bag and then looked up at the guy. "That's it?"

The guard crossed his arms and jutted his chin out. "You're lucky you get that."

"Right," John said, closing the drawstring at the top. "Don't execute people my ass. You just do it the slow and cowardly way."

The guard ignored him and the two goons headed for the door. As they walked out, his team came in. John expected for one of the guards to join them, but no one did. "I'm surprised they left us in here alone."

"I asked them to give us some time alone since it would be the last time to see you," said Teyla.

"Right," John said, his throat suddenly dry. "Look, guys, I know you'll do everything you can, but realistically you probably aren't going to find me. So I don't want you to feel bad if . . . you know, you can't."

"We won't give up, Sheppard," said Ronon.

"What he said," said Rodney, hooking his thumb toward the Satedan. "Look, colonel . . . John . . . I'll do everything I can. We'll find you so you can't give up. It's just . . . it might take a while."

John nodded. "I guess I need to say something, in case . . . Anyway, you guys are the best. I couldn't have asked for a better team and I have no regrets . . . except maybe skipping the whole being kidnapped and put on trial thing," he finished with a tight smile.

"What did they give you?" asked Rodney, nodding toward the bag.

John winced. "String, a flint, bottle of water, some sort of dried food, and a tiny knife that probably wouldn't cut hot butter."

Ronon grinned and pulled a knife from his hair. The blade was four inches long, almost an inch wide, and looked sharp enough John had no idea how the big guy had kept that in his hair without injuring himself. "Here Sheppard, this is bound to be better than what they gave you."

John took it and breathed out a sigh of relief. "Yeah, a whole lot better." Leaning over, he slid the weapon into the empty sheath inside his boot. "Thanks, big guy." He looked up at Ronon and sighed. "I'm going to miss you guys."

"As we will miss you," Teyla said.

Someone banged on the door and one of the guards yelled, "Hurry up."

Teyla put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. John touched his forehead to hers, lingering for several moments. "Goodbye, Teyla," he whispered. "Take care of Torren."

She pulled her head back and looked at him, her eyes searching his face. "I will. And you take care until we find you. We will never stop looking, not until we have returned you to Atlantis."

John looked at Rodney. "Keep Atlantis safe, Rodney. You and Teyla keep Ronon from getting into too much trouble. Try not to let this go to your head, but you're the smartest man I've ever met."

Rodney's eyes widened. "Really? Smarter than Sam Carter?" he said hopefully.

John couldn't help one last jab. "Smartest _man_ I ever met."

Rodney's eyes narrowed for a moment and then his expression went from annoyed to devastated in the blink of an eye. "Take care of yourself until we get there, okay? Promise you won't do something monumentally stupid and get yourself killed the first day."

John nodded, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth as his heart pounded in his chest. "I promise," he croaked.

"What he said," Ronon said, clasping John's shoulder. "You're smart and you can think your way out of problems like no one I've ever seen. Use that. And always remember, we are coming."

John nodded as the door flung open and Shiana stepped inside. "Your time is over. Everyone out."

John watched his team leave and he followed behind them. His two guards took up their place on either side of him. They walked through several hallways, finally stopping beside an unfamiliar door.

Shiana stood beside Dimas and Kelore, but she was the only one who looked happy. "Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, you are to be banished for the rest of your life to a planet of our choosing. There is no escape, so you would do well to accept your fate."

"And by fate you mean dying of exposure or starving to death," said Rodney bitterly. "You people are worse than the Wraith. At least they do what they do to survive."

"Dr. McKay," said Woolsey sternly. "The council knows our position on this matter. As they know that since our _interference_ has led to such harsh consequences, we will never _interfere_ in the matters of any Coalition member again." He stared hard at Dimas and then Kelore, emphasizing the real meaning of his comment.

"That would be wise," said Shiana with a smug grin. "These proceedings have served their purpose."

Teyla arched an eyebrow at the woman. "You could have achieved the same results by merely asking us to stand aside and stop . . . _helping_ those who do not request our assistance. I believe this was more about your perceived revenge against someone for the loss of your family. You could do nothing to the Wraith responsible, so you set Colonel Sheppard as your target. Such emotional injustices are not the sign of a good leader."

Woolsey sighed. "Teyla."

John hid the grin trying to break out at his team's insistence on putting the truth of the situation forward, but he had to stop them before they ended up banished with him. As much as he'd love their company, it wasn't fair to impose the terrible fate on those closest to him just so he wouldn't be alone. And he couldn't bear the thought of Teyla being separated from Torren.

"Thanks, guys, but enough. Let's get on with this so Shiana can go gloat in private." He purposefully plastered a big grin on his face and stared at the selfish woman until she looked away.

"Colonel Sheppard will be sent through first. Your team will wait here so that they do not see the address that is dialed and will then be free to return to Atlantis," said Kelore.

"No," John said, his voice firm and strong. "You let me watch them return to Atlantis and then I'll go through willingly. It's not that I don't trust you guys to be true to your word, but . . . oh, wait. It _is_ that I don't trust you guys to do what you say. The problem with lying and deceiving people is that they eventually stop believing anything you say."

"You do not have a choice in this," Shiana snapped, her anger bubbling over at her loss of control.

"No," John said. "I don't have any control over being banished. But I can either walk through the gate or you can drag me kicking and screaming. I can't overpower your numbers, but I can probably do some damage on the way." He glared at her with all the defiance he could muster. It would be just like these jerks to let him go through and then do something to his people. He would protect them as long as he could.

Dimas held up his hand. "Just let them go through to Atlantis first, Shiana. What difference does it make? You won what you wanted. I only hope we don't all live to regret it."

With a huff, she nodded. "Fine. Let them go through first."

"Thank you," John said with slight bow to Shiana. Then he walked into the gate room with his team, all of them surrounded by guards.

As the wormhole was established, John looked to Woolsey and held out his hand. "Thanks, Richard, for trying to defend us and for at least getting the rest of my team home. You guys better take care of Atlantis. Tell Lorne to have all teams watch their back from now on, no matter how trusted people have been in the past."

Woolsey clasped John's hand firmly. "I will. It's been a pleasure working with you John. Take care of yourself. And don't worry about your men. I'll have Lorne give them the appropriate warning and we will no longer be associating with anyone even rumored to have ties to the Coalition."

Rodney sighed. "Great. Not only do we have Wraith to guard against, but backstabbing Genii and Coalition planets." He turned around and looked at the three judges of the inquisition. "Some days I think we should just abandon them to their fate. Let the Wraith have the ungrateful trouble-making –"

"Rodney," John said, cutting the scientist off and waiting until he looked at him. "Not everyone is like them. One word. Athosians."

Teyla smiled and Rodney bowed his head. "You're right, sorry. We'll just have to find more people like the Athosians out there."

"You have had your time. Go," snapped Shiana.

Mr. Woolsey nodded. "We're leaving." He looked at John. "Don't give up."

John gave his team a small nod. "I won't. I'll be waiting." It took everything in his being not to run after his team and follow them through the gate. He clenched his fist at his side until the wormhole dissolved. If he'd thought he had half a chance of making it, he would have tried. But Shiana had known that was a possibility and surrounded him with guards. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing him fail a desperate attempt to get home.

"Let's get on with it," John said. "The less time in this cesspool, the better."

Shiana narrowed her eyes and grinned. "We will see how you feel once you step through the gate."

John wrapped the top of the canvas bag around his hand as he watched a new wormhole vortex bubble out. He glanced back at Shiana. "Don't worry. I've prepared myself that everything you told me about this planet is a lie and I'll be lucky to survive the first day. Like I said, never trust anything liars tell you. I hope this makes you happy, Shiana. I hope none of your people ever need the help of Atlantis. Because if they do, you just forfeited their lives. Maybe one day they'll send you to join me." With a chuckle at her shocked expression, John strode through the gate like he was going on vacation.

He stepped from the warm room into a forested world late into dusk. It was much cooler here and John was thankful they had let him keep his jacket. Shivering, he looked up at the darkening sky to see the trees had lost about half their leaves, so it was mid to late fall on this world.

Although he'd been told there was no DHD, he still checked the small clearing around the gate. They had been telling the truth about that at least. He shivered and realized he probably needed to find some kind of shelter and build a fire for the night. He had only walked a few steps when men began to appear from behind the trees.

"Uninhabited my butt," he muttered. He should have known. "Uh, hey," he said, glancing around to count the men and try to figure out who was in charge. There were six men that he could see, but he suspected there were more farther out and behind the trees. What had Shiana sent him into?

A man about his height, but with broader shoulders, a beard, and a receding hairline stepped closer, crossing his arms in a defensive stance. "Stranger. Who sent you?"

"Technically, the self-appointed heads of the Coalition of Planets after a bogus trial in a kangaroo court. Realistically, it was a woman named Shiana."

The man nodded. "She is harsh with those who do not ally themselves with her."

John rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I kind of noticed. What is this place? She told me it was uninhabited."

"It is . . . at least by civilized people. We are prisoners here, as you are now. Several worlds use this planet to . . . get rid of those they do not want. The Genii, the Landmarians, a few others. It seems this Coalition group had decided to join in. Welcome to Ciardia, permanent home of the unwanted. I am Edan."

John nodded. "My name is John. I'm guessing you're the leader of . . . everyone?"

Edan laughed. "Not everyone. Those who want to have a sort of organized society have chosen me to guide them and speak for them. Those who do not wish to be part of our group are free to move on, farther into the forest to fend for themselves."

"Oh," John said, watching the men as they edge closer and noting that no one looked overly friendly.

"You will be required to share what you have brought with you," said Edan. "Supplies are scarce here so we all contribute what we can . . . for the good of all of course," he said as he waved his hand toward the other men.

"I see. And what if I choose not to join your little group? If I want to fend for myself?" He was pretty sure he already knew what the answer to that was.

Edan's expression hardened. "I'll still be needing the contents of your bag. Turn it over and you may proceed unharmed."

John snorted. "You're almost as bad a liar as Shiana."

"I want his boots, boss. Mine are all wore out," said a rail thin man with long, stringy blonde hair. His clothes were rags and remnants and his feet were covered with patched up shoes that had definitely seen better days.

"We'll see Bhruic. All right John, what's it going to be?"

John clutched the bag, deciding if the contents were worth fighting over. They probably weren't, but if he just handed it over, they probably wouldn't let him leave. He couldn't show weakness to these people. "I think my bag and I will try our luck in a different part of the forest. But thanks for the offer."

He took two steps forward and Edan moved to stand in front of him. "I said I'll be taking the bag. Think of it as a contribution."

John snorted. "A contribution to the gang of thieves that hang out at the gate and rob anyone sent through? I don't think so."

John was aware of the man sneaking up behind him. Dropping, he swung his leg out and tripped the guy before lunging back to his feet. Unfortunately, that allowed the others to move in and the next several minutes were filled with punching, kicking, and jabbing. Some of it was even done by John, but he felt like he took more than he gave. The six to one odds were not working in his favor.

When it was over, John lay panting in the leaf litter with an assortment of abrasions and a couple of bruised ribs. He guessed he was lucky he wasn't dead. As a matter of fact, he was a little surprised by that.

"Can I have his boots now?" asked Bhruic, leaning over to grab John's foot. John immediately kicked the man full in the face, breaking his nose. Bhruic yelled and fell backwards, one hand going up to his bleeding face.

"You have to get them off me first, jackass," John said, sitting up and pushing his back to a tree. He could tell the knife was still in his boot and he'd rather not lose it or his shoes. Pushing himself to his feet, he realized someone had already relieved him of his leather jacket and he shivered in the cold.

"Congratulations. Six of you just fought to take a bag of pitiful supplies from one man. I can see why you guys are so proud of this community thing you've got going on. I'm afraid I won't fit into the social structure you have set up here because no way am I going to survive by stealing things from others. So if you'll excuse me, I think I'll be on my way."

Wiping the blood oozing down his chin, he headed into the forest, taking the path that left the widest birth between him and Edan's thugs. He was encouraged by the observation that they were breathing as hard as he was and sporting their own set of scrapes and bruises. He was hyperaware as he walked away, half expecting them to come after him until he heard Edan speaking to his people.

"John?"

Taking a deep breath, he turned around to see the silhouette in the fading light. "Are you sure you won't join us? We could use someone who fights like that."

"I can't do that," John replied. "It's not who I am."

Edan considered this and then nodded. "Suit yourself. But your chances of survival are better with us."

"I'll risk it," he said as he turned back and began walking. As soon as he had put enough distance between him and them that he could no longer hear the gang of thugs, he quickened his steps. He didn't trust Edan not to wait for him to drop his guard and then send someone after him. After about an hour, the moon came up and shed enough light he could almost see where he was going. Spraining an ankle right now could be a death sentence.

A few hours later, he stopped and constructed a couple of traps and then climbed up into one of the trees that still had quite a bit of leaves left. The sore ribs made the climb that much more difficult, but he grit his teeth and pushed on until he was settled on a thick branch to rest. It was almost dawn when he heard rustling on the forest floor. Peering between the branches, he saw Bhruic and a short pudgy guy wading through the leaves, making no attempt at being quiet.

"I don't see him and I'm tired. Maybe we should go back, tell Edan he got away," said the fat guy. Either they had a really good food supply or that guy hadn't been here long.

"No, no, he's got to be close. Edan said if I killed him, I could have his boots and I want those boots."

"They probably don't even fit you. Why is Edan so keen to kill this guy? Usually we just chase folks off that don't want to cooperate so they don't crowd into our food supply."

"He's worried he might come back and try to-"

At that point, the two slobs who obviously had no military training walked right into the trip wire that he'd constructed from vines, releasing a log that plowed into them from the front. John quickly climbed out of the tree. Since neither one had enough awareness of their surroundings to even duck, they took the full force of the log.

Bhruic was nearly dead, the log catching him in the throat. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and nose for a few seconds before he stopped breathing, his windpipe crushed. The fat guy had caught it in the chin, snapping his head back and breaking his neck. John sighed. It was purely self-defense, but it always bothered him to kill, especially when it was totally senseless, like this.

"Idiots," he muttered. After a moment, he searched them for anything useful. Bhruic had a pretty decent knife and long piece of thin rope curled up and hooked to his pants. The other guy had a flint, a small bag of dried meat, and John's water bottle.

He stared at the pair for a moment, overcoming his aversion to taking clothes off a dead man so he could wrestle the coat off the short guy. It had been big on him, but it fit John fairly well. The brown fabric was coarse and rough, but it warmed him almost immediately. Unfortunately, it smelled to high heaven so on the first warm day, he'd have to wash the thing.

Once he'd taken anything that could help him survive, he covered the bodies with branches and dead leaves. Anyone paying close attention could see something was being hidden under the debris, but so far these guys were not all that impressive in the observation department. He wasn't even sure if they'd come looking for the two missing thieves, but if they did, he wanted to throw them off as much as he could.

He climbed up one of the trees with almost no leaves to see if anyone was visible following him or the dumb duo. After several minutes of seeing and hearing nothing, he climbed down and spent some time laying several false trails leading away from the bodies. He then made sure he didn't leave a trail in the direction he was going.

John spent the rest of the day traveling, trying to cover as much ground as possible while leaving little or no trail. He silently thanked Ronon and Teyla for the lessons that he was now using. He was going to have to find a safe place to spend the night because he needed some sleep before he got sloppy and ended up dead. He was tired, sore, and hungry so he needed to find a place soon.

About an hour before dark, he found a large tree with a hollow space about ten feet off the ground. He had noticed a weird place in the trunk and climbed up to check it out when he found the opening to the space inside. It was small, but he could curl up and hopefully keep a lot warmer than he had been last night. Now to find some food since he'd eaten the two pieces of Pegasus beef jerky for lunch.

It was almost dark when he found the kenasia berries. His team had seen them on several worlds. Ronon pointed them out because that had been a fairly consistent food staple for him when he was a runner. The distinctive lobed leaves and the way they grew in patches on the ground made them easy to identify. John filled his pockets with them and headed back to the tree. He wanted to be inside the hollow before he lost all the light.

He dumped the berries on a flat branch just outside his hollow spot so he wouldn't squish them. He didn't have a lot of water left, so that would have to be a priority tomorrow. Folding himself into the tree hollow with bruised ribs took a few minutes of moaning and cursing. Once inside, he could reach out and grab a few berries to eat. He left a handful for breakfast, wrapping them in a large leaf in hopes nothing else would get them during the night.

Pulling the coat tightly around him, he drifted off almost immediately after he stopped moving. He jerked awake during the night, a rustling noise sending his heart rate up. He listened, straining to make out what the sound was. A breeze blew moisture in and he realized it was raining. Twisting around where his back was turned toward the opening in the tree, he curled back up and went to sleep, thankful for the relative dryness of his hiding place and the warmth provided by the coat.

oOo

John blinked his eyes open to cramped darkness and had a moment of panic when he didn't know where he was. When he tried to move, his body protested and all his muscles locked up. Grunting with the escalating aches and pains, he stilled to get his bearings and to get his body to stop screaming at him. Everything came flooding back, bringing the discouraging dread with it.

After a few minutes, he got himself turned around so that he could see out of his hole. The rain had stopped, but the forest was shrouded in the grayness of early morning clouds and fog. The air was damp and cool, producing a shiver. Great. Awake for two minutes and things were already looking up. Shaking his head, he scolded himself for the pessimistic attitude. At least he was still alive.

He pulled himself out of the hollow, stretching protesting muscles and joints that had stiffened during the night. His bruises ached, including his ribs. On the bright side, breakfast was sitting there waiting for him, the banished and screwed version of breakfast in bed. His growling stomach demanded attention, so he unwrapped the berries left over from supper the night before. There weren't enough to be filling, but it kept his stomach from feeling like a totally empty pit.

After checking the surroundings for any sign he'd been followed, he carefully climbed out of the tree. The bark was slick from the rain, making him move slowly so as not to fall. Once on the ground, he walked around getting the rest of the kinks out, allowing a few groans to escape. Once he felt human again, he set off in his original direction. The view from the tree had shown a small mountain not too far away and that sounded like as good a destination as any.

He went as quickly and quietly as he could, shifting directions back and forth and trying to hide his trail. He found some roots Teyla had shown him once and another patch of berries, but he knew he would need something more substantial soon. Maybe he could take time to hunt some small game tonight. He had to keep bringing his focus back to his surroundings because his mind kept drifting to his team, to Atlantis. They would be looking for him, but realistically, unless someone high up who knew his location had a sudden change of heart and told his people, the likelihood of them finding him in his lifetime were practically nil.

Late in the afternoon, he came to a sheer rock wall, the lower levels of the mountain. He began following the edge, hoping eventually it would provide an access point so he could cross it. He figured if he could make the other side of the mountain, the likelihood of anyone coming after him would be very small.

Normally he'd try to stay close to the gate, but the circumstances were a little different than the norm. For one thing, rescue, if it ever came, would be in the distant future. He still had his subcutaneous transmitter, no doubt due to the council's confidence that Atlantis could not find the planet, so in the event they did come, they could track him. They would have to come by jumper or the Daedalus because they knew there was no DHD. And who could forget the gang of thieves hanging around the gate, making it impossible to stay close and stay alive.

John stopped in his tracks. He'd wandered into a small clearing around the mouth of a small cave. A tall, thin man with graying hair stood before a fire pit staring at him. The man set one hand on the knife hanging from his belt. John held his hands out, palms up.

"Hey. Look, I wasn't trying to intrude on your place here. I was just following the side of the mountain around, looking for a place to cross. I'm not after your stuff or here to cause trouble." His eyes strayed down to the fire, the hunk of meat cooking there obviously the source of the incredible smell he'd been distracted by.

Clearing his throat as he looked back at the man, he motioned away from the cave. "Look, like I said, I didn't mean to intrude. I can just go around and leave you to . . . cooking your supper." He licked his lips and tried not to look as hungry as he was.

"Why are you here?" the man asked without moving.

John dipped his head to one side. "Like I said, I was just following the mountain –"

"Not that," the man said irritably. "Why are you on the planet?"

"Oh, that." John blushed, feeling stupid. He wasn't normally so dense. "My people and I tried to help out some villages and we've been fighting the Wraith. A bunch of planets formed this Coalition and they decided we were doing more harm than good. I got elected to be the scapegoat for the whole city, so here I am . . . being punished for trying to help, but apparently not being very good at it."

The guy's eyebrows went up. "You are from the city of the Ancestors . . . Atlantis?"

Now it was John's turn to look surprised. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

The man let his hand drop from his knife. "It is a long story." He pointed to the meat on the spit. "I was very fortunate in my hunt earlier and have more than I can eat before it goes bad. Perhaps you would like to share it with me and we can trade stories."

John sighed, a little startled at how relieved he was, both for the food and the company. "I'd actually like that very much if you're sure you have enough. Name's John Sheppard and I have to admit, I'm getting tired of berries."

The man laughed and pointed to an old log sitting on the other side of the fire. "I am certain. Have a seat friend and rest. You will be safe here." He poked the fire with a long stick, moving he embers around until it flared hot again. John sat down, although he kept his eyes and ears open, watching for any sign of a trap.

After turning the meat, the man sat down on the other log. He had clear blue eyes that reminded John of Carson and a scruffy beard. He looked to be in his late forties, but if he'd been here long, that could have aged him faster.

The man looked up with a small smile that held no humor. "I am Neran from the planet Hoff."

John's eyes widened. "Hoff?" _Oh, crap._ "Uh, look, I'm sorry about everything that happened. Carson, our doctor, he tried to get them to hold off using the serum until it had been tested some more."

Neran waved a hand in dismissal. "I know. Chancellor Druhin could be quite . . . stubborn once he'd made up his mind. I didn't want to participate, but . . . well, the government people were sort of insistent once the vote had been taken." He looked at the fire, randomly poking it with his stick. "My wife and daughter died. I was unfortunate enough to survive."

They sat silently for several minutes, John unsure of what to say. Eventually he blew out a breath and looked up at Neran. "I'm sorry, I really am."

Neran shrugged, but his expression showed the pain he was trying to mask. "I left Hoff after they died. I was too angry to stay and support the government that took them from me. I moved to another planet where a distant cousin lived, tried to start over. It was culled a few months later and someone saw a Wraith try to feed on me and fail. They thought I was some kind of Wraith worshiper."

"That's why you got sent here?" asked John.

"Yes. No chance to defend myself. No proof of their claims. I had been living peacefully with them for months. Helped deliver a baby, helped neighbors put in crops. And they just screamed at me and dumped me here because of something they did not understand." He looked up at John, his face tired and worn. "There is no justice, no loyalty in people."

John sighed. "Tell me about it. They were going to send my whole team to this God-forsaken place, but our current boss talked them out of it. Apparently Shiana was determined that someone should pay for her losses and as the military leader, I got elected."

"She is part of this coalition?"

"Yes, they had three people appointed as judges and we were supposedly tried. Shiana, Dimas, and Kelore, if those names mean anything to you. We figured out the Genii were pulling some strings behind the scenes to get us out of the way. They apparently see themselves as the military presence of the Pegasus Galaxy."

Neran huffed out a breath. "Ancestors help us if those scourges are given power. Maybe this is not such a bad place after all if it keeps us from the likes of them."

John snorted. He liked this guy. "You may have something there. On the other hand, though, someone needs to be out there keeping an eye on them."

Neran sobered and stared into the fire again, mumbling something in an unfamiliar language under his breath. After a moment, he sighed and poked the fire again. "I see you are bruised. You encountered the parasite who robs those sent through the gate."

John rubbed his sore ribs. "Yeah, Edan and his gang. Did they rough you up when you were sent here?"

"No, I was already here when he came through. A few of them came with him, while others he has added from those who were here or those who came after. They are parasites who take from others so they do not have to fight for survival as much as the rest of us. I had a route through the forest to collect food enough to provide my needs. They took it over and told me I could move or they would move me. That is how I ended up here. The food is not as varied or as plentiful, but I make do. At least they do not bother me since I am so far away."

John nodded. "I'm hoping to find some place like that for myself. I was telling the truth when I said I was looking for a way over the mountain. I figure they sure won't come after me then. I . . . I may have killed a couple of their men who came after me. I need some space between us."

"I understand," Neran said. "If you continue the way you were going, you should find a place about a quarter day walk where you can begin crossing. I have not followed it far so I do not know if it will take you all the way over."

John smiled and nodded. "Thanks. All I need is a place to start and I'll figure the rest out."

Neran leaned over to check the meat. "Ah, I believe our dinner is ready." He used his knife to cut off a hunk of meat and placed it on a flat, smooth piece of bark that apparently served as a plate. After handing that that to John, Neran used rag to pull a clay pot out of the coals and removed the lid. "Kharana roots and vanita," said Neran, sticking a carved spoon into the mixture. "Help yourself."

John dipped about a third of the food in the pot onto his bark plate as Neran served himself a sizeable chunk of meat. He peeled off a small section of meat a little at a time as the temperature allowed. Popping it into his mouth, he was reminded of grilled pork with a slight wild taste.

"Hmm, this is good," he said nodding. His stomach growled at the taste and smell of real food. He started to scrape up a bite of the root mixture with his hands, but Neran handed him a flattened, carved spoon. "You're very creative. Thanks."

Neran smiled. "There was a need. I improvised. I have found it better than eating with my hands, and less messy."

John nodded and scooped up some of the vegetables. "This is good, too. Reminds me of a cross between potatoes and turnips cooked with onions."

Neran laughed as he chewed. "I have no idea what any of those things are, but I am glad you are enjoying it. It feels good to share a meal with someone after all this time."

"How long have you been here?"

"Nine hundred seventy-three days. But who is counting?" Neran looked at his food, refusing to make eye contract. They ate in silence for several minutes and John felt better and better as his belly filled and his body warmed.

When they were done, John helped carry the dishes down to a stream a few minutes walk away so they could wash everything off. He filled his canteen while he was there and then they carried everything back to camp. Neran put the dishes away inside his cave.

"You should stay here tonight and you can set off in the morning."

John's eyes widened. "Really? I mean, I don't want to intrude or anything."

"It is just one night and you'll be rested for your journey. We can have left over deemari meat in the morning so that you may leave rested and fed. You still have far to go."

The man seemed sincere, but John had been fooled in the past. He didn't want to spend the night trying to sleep with one eye open, but he didn't relish the idea of spending another night in a tree either. He sighed. "I'll stay the night. It's gotta be better than cramming myself in the hollow of another tree."

Neran chuckled. "Indeed, I should hope so."

They sat around the fire for a while, warming themselves and talking. The longer he was there, the more comfortable John felt. Eventually he even stopped looking over his shoulder, although he never gave up listening to the sounds of the forest for anything that seemed out of place. Well after dark it began drizzling again, so they went into the cave.

Neran had a bed of dried leaves and grass with a thin, threadbare blanket. A shelf of rock had an assortment of items, including the homemade dishes and utensils. He had also attached torches to the wall and one was lit, providing light in the room. "I'm impressed," John said.

Shrugging, Neran rolled out a mat made of dried grass weaved together. "This is not as thick as my bed, but it is still better than lying on the ground. Normally we could pile leaves underneath to make it softer, but everything is wet from the rain."

"Hey, it's a lot better than where I slept last night. Thank you again for letting me stay the night. It's also a lot dryer in here than I would be out there."

"It is fine. As I said before, I am glad for some company." Neran sat down on his bed and John did likewise. Suddenly, John was exhausted, mentally and physically. He looked around the cave and realized in a few years, this would be him, assuming he survived that long. It hit him that he would probably never see Atlantis or his friends again. He closed his eyes and pictured himself squeezing the life out of Shiana while she begged for mercy, but it didn't help.

"I am sorry," said Neran as if reading his mind. "I know how you feel. Some days it hits me anew again, that this is my life for the rest of my days. I sometimes think of giving up, of just letting elements or starvation have me. But I cannot. My Leena would expect more of me. And so I continue."

John sat silently for a few minutes, pulling himself back together. "Do you know if there are others like you here, that are here due to ignorance or vengeance instead of crimes they have committed?"

"I have encountered a few in my time here. Some of them are dead. Some joined Edan in order to survive. A few spread out to live away from the gate and the thieves that infest that place. Most are true criminals."

John nodded. "So, on the off chance my people eventually figure out where I am and come to rescue me, I'll take you with me if you want to go."

Neran smiled. "I believe that is a dream that is unlikely, but I appreciate the thought. I would be honored to be taken from here." He tilted his head to one side. "Would it be possible to see the city of the Ancestors?"

"Oh, I think I could arrange that," John said with a smile.

"We should rest now. You will have a long day tomorrow."

John watched as the man got up and went outside for a few moments. He returned quickly and put out the torch. "I had to set the traps around the cave. If anyone comes around, we will know it before they are close enough to harm us."

"Sounds like you've thought of everything," John said, lying back on the mat. "Thanks again." He didn't know if Neran replied because he was asleep in moments.

TBC

 _The story is complete and is three chapters long. I hope to post a chapter each day as I finish going over them one last time. I can't help continuing to tweak them as they are never good enough to satisfy me. Basically I just finally get tired of looking at them._


	2. Chapter 2

Banished Chapter 2

John stretched and yawned, listening to the sounds of morning. He was chilly, but not as cold as he'd have been in the forest. And Neran's mat was a lot easier on his back than sleeping in tree hollows. He was getting too old for crap like that. He snorted at the probability that the rest of his life didn't hold the promise of anything better.

Shaking off the depressing thoughts, he sat up and noticed that Neran was also waking up. Since the cave didn't come equipped with indoor plumbing, he pushed himself to his feet and staggered outside and through the trees to answer the call of nature, almost blundering into one of the traps. When he returned a few minutes later, Neran was up and trying to resurrect the fire.

John rubbed his hands together, trying to knock off the chill. A light coating of frost sporadically coated the leaf litter on the forest floor. He had scouted around the perimeter on his way back, but had not seen any sign of stalkers, which was a relief. Possibly Edan wasn't concerned about his missing men after all.

Neran had the fire going within a few minutes, so they reheated the leftover meat from the night before, which the older man had stored in a clay pot. John was hoping it had been cool enough that it hadn't spoiled because he did not relish the idea of food poisoning under these conditions. They ate the meat with a yellow fruit that tasted a bit like really sweet peaches.

After breakfast, John helped clean up and then refilled his water bottle. Neran gave him some fruit and roots to eat on his journey since he had no idea how available food would be. Neran stood with his hands on his hips.

"You are a good man, John Sheppard. You are welcome to stay here if you want. I have enjoyed the company."

"No, I'm still not sure if Edan's coming after me or not and I don't want to bring you trouble. I thank you for the food, the shelter, and the company. If some time goes by and my people don't come, I may come back and take you up on that offer. If you get to wanting a change in scenery, you'll always be welcome to come see me on the other side," John said.

Neran nodded. "I understand. Good fortune to you in your journey. I hope you find a good place to stay in your quest."

With a nod, John headed out, taking a path parallel to the rocky wall. He weaved in and out and around the trees for the next several hours before he found a place where he could start his journey over the mountain. The path was steep and narrow for most of the afternoon, sometimes making him climb more than walk. By the time evening was beginning to settle in, John had worked his way up high enough there was snow and the temperature was quite a bit colder.

He realized he was going to have to bed down for the night. If he tried stumbling around in the dark, he might walk off a cliff, an idea he was not fond of. The problem was, this area was mostly just bare rock. He'd freeze before morning.

Suddenly a man almost as tall as Ronon stepped out from behind a boulder. The guy was built like a linebacker and had long hair pulled back and tied in a ponytail. Interestingly enough, his face reminded John of Kavanaugh. He was grinning as he flashed a huge serrated knife.

"You just need to stop right there, mister."

John sighed. Just when he'd finally begun to relax. "What do you want?" he asked, trying to look unconcerned as he studied the man's movements.

"You. Edan wasn't happy that you killed two of his men. Sent me to make sure you either came back to make amends or . . . " He brandished the knife dramatically, making John roll his eyes.

"Let me guess, come back with you to suffer through some sort of mindless _punishment_ or die, right? You know, you'd think you bad guys would get tired of being so predictable. Is there like a cliché school for criminals or something?" John put his hands on his hips and slowly began sliding one hand back to the knife tucked into his belt, thankful that he'd moved it out of his boot.

The big guy's expression had slowly transformed into a scowl and he rubbed his beard with his free hand. "You should show more respect to someone who holds your life in his hand," said the man.

John smiled and bowed his head a second as he positioned the knife. He went through the motions Ronon had taught him in his head and took in a few deep, slow breaths. The guy was babbling on about something, but John had shut him out, focusing on what he needed to do. When he made his move, it was so quick the guy never saw it coming. One second he was droning on about how everyone who came through the gate should be honored to serve on one of Edan's little thieving crews and the next he was gurgling around a knife in his throat.

John watched him drop to the ground and jerk a couple of times before he went still. Making his way to the guy carefully, he checked for a pulse. Finding none, he retrieved his knife, wiping the blood on the man's pants. He grabbed up the guy's knife and water bottle. A check of the man's pockets didn't yield anything worth taking, but John stood a moment looking at the man's coat. It was made of thick cloth and was much longer than his current one. It looked a lot warmer too.

As much as John hated to do it, it was a matter of survival. He rolled the guy around as he pulled his coat off. After a few moments of guilt, he figured he might as well go for broke and took the guy's shirt too. Dead men didn't need clothes or coats. He spent another hour dragging the body to a deep crevice and pushing it inside. He then covered the body with rocks until it just looked like part of the landscape.

The bad news was that Edan was still pissed and sending people after him. Hopefully he'd decide it wasn't worth loosing anyone else. He wished he knew if Neran was okay, but no way could he go back. He looked up at the ever darkening sky, some bright stars beginning to peek out. He'd have to continue on in the dark, just in case there was someone else out there. At least Shiana's crew could have let him keep his flashlight.

Looking around the night sky, he noticed the rising moon seemed bright tonight, the clouds having finally moved on to torment someone else. He'd just have to be careful. He should be over this small mountain or big hill or whatever it was by tomorrow and then maybe he could find a place to hole up and sleep for a while. And then he could dream sweet dreams about being rescued and bringing Shiana here to take his place. He'd love for the witch to have to deal with Edan and sleeping in hollow trees in the cold.

That thought made him smile and he used the energy from it to push onward. The going was slow, hard, and treacherous in the dark, but he managed to keep going without breaking anything until morning. He stood looking at the last part of his descent in the gray light of dawn. He was cold, but walking all night had least kept him from freezing. He was exhausted and hungry and almost out of water.

Several hours later and fifteen feet from the bottom, the long night caught up with him. Making his way down a particularly steep part, his shaking legs gave out and he slipped, tumbling the rest of the way to the flatlands below. Sharp pain in his lower right leg made it obvious he was in trouble. He rolled onto his side, fists clenched against the pain just below his knee.

After a few minutes, the pain had dulled enough he felt like he could breathe again, so he sat up. The bone just below his knee, which if memory served him correctly would be the top part of the tibia, hurt like a son of a gun. It radiated out making the whole area throb relentlessly. He didn't know if he'd broken it, but if not, it was a close thing.

It was several minutes later before he could even think about getting up. Careful examination didn't find any sign the bone was broken so he used the large rocks at the base of the hill to help him maneuver to his feet, or rather his foot. He found he couldn't put much weight at all on his right leg, so he leaned back against one of the boulders while he got his bearings. He needed to get moving.

The bottom part of the hill had begun to have a few trees again and here at the bottom, the forest seemed to have taken back up. He looked around until he spotted a stick he thought would work as a walking stick. He hopped over to it, which jarred his already aching leg. When he stopped to pick it up, he ended up skidding in the leaves and falling. Fortunately, he managed to twist and land on his hip so as not to further injure his already damaged leg.

He lay there for a few minutes, thinking about how the bed of dead leaves actually felt pretty good, if a little damp. He was just so tired and his leg really hurt. He dozed a few seconds and then snapped awake, realizing what was going on. Sitting up, he looked around. He was hidden from the main pathway if anyone followed him down. He didn't see anything around that looked like signs of giant predators.

It probably wasn't the smartest thing he'd ever done, but he rolled the dead guy's shirt up and used it as a pillow, blood side down. Nestling down into the leaves, he threw the long coat over him like a blanket and lay down. He had time to hope he didn't wake up to being eaten by the Pegasus version of a bear or to find himself lying on an anthill or something, but he was so tired and sore, he honestly couldn't find enough energy to care. He drifted off to sleep wondering what his team was doing.

oOo

Woolsey stared at the gate as the vortex swooshed out over the embarkation floor. Sheppard's team practically surrounded him, their tension almost a visible presence in the room. He glanced over at the control room tech and nodded. "Open a channel to the Genii, Chip."

Chip glared at him and Ronon snorted. He sighed, knowing that meant he'd messed the poor boy's name up again.

"Channel is open, sir."

Woolsey nodded and smiled briefly as the man's name suddenly came to him. "Thank you, Chuck."

Chuck gave him a half smile that radiated _finally_ , but Woolsey didn't care. He sobered and cleared his throat. "This is Richard Woolsey of the Atlantis expedition. I need to speak with Ladon Radim."

There was a pause that went on several minutes, making him wonder if the transmission had reached its target. He was preparing to repeat his greeting when Ladon's voice came over the radio.

"This is Ladon Radim of the Genii. I must confess to being surprised to hear from you Mr. Woolsey. What can the Genii do for you?"

Woolsey glanced at the tense faces of Sheppard's team. "I am sure you are aware of the kidnapping and . . . _trial_ Colonel Sheppard's team was put through by the Coalition. We believe the verdict against the colonel was contrived as vengeance for atrocities committed by the Wraith and the replicators against one member of the leadership. I am sure the Genii would not be involved in any underhanded, behind the scenes manipulation of the verdict that was rendered."

Rodney snorted and mumbled under his breath until Woolsey shot him a stern, threatening look.

"Of course not," said Ladon. "The Genii are an honorable people."

Woolsey had to fight the urge to snort at that one and Sheppard's team made all kinds of faces trying to keep from commenting. Even Teyla struggled to remain quiet. Woolsey cleared his throat to bring himself back to focus. "Colonel Sheppard was banished to a supposedly uninhabited planet. I was wondering if the Genii were aware of any generally uninhabited planets without a DHD where some civilizations send their criminals or anyone else they want to punish? We have heard this is relatively commonplace in the Pegasus Galaxy."

There were some muffled voices and shuffling noises on the other end before Ladon spoke again. "I have also heard such things but I do not know of any specific examples. I am afraid I cannot help you."

Rodney was red-faced with anger that spilled over at the obvious lie. "You're telling us that the Genii don't send their unwanted people, aka anyone who does not practically worship the person currently in power, to some planet without a DHD to be banished and die. Because we've talked to several people from different worlds who are sure that that is exactly what you do."

Ladon sighed audibly. "What can I tell you, Dr. McKay, they were mistaken. And to be honest, I find this whole conversation to be inappropriate. The Genii are members in good standing with the Coalition and how would it look if we gave you information that allowed you to go against their ruling. I'm afraid we cannot help you."

"You better hope I don't run into any Genii in the future," said Ronon. "I have a habit of stomping slimy, parasitic bugs I come across."

"Ronon, I assume. Threatening the official forces of the Coalition is not good, my friend."

"Make no mistake, we are not your friends," said Ronon with a snarl.

"Although I might have voiced the thought differently, Ronon is correct," said Woolsey. "We are not friends or allies with any member of the Coalition forces. Their tactics are questionable at best. We cannot support kidnapping innocent people or rigged trials that only serve the purpose of letting those in power act out their personal grudges. We find _those_ actions . . . _inappropriate_."

After a moment of silence, Ladon said, "You must do what you feel is right as the leader of your people. I do not agree with your assessment, so I must also do what is right for my people."

"You mean the Genii are on another power trip. Hoping to become the dominant military force so you can run roughshod over more planets? Let me guess – this gives you an excuse to march in and take over their resources, all in the name of the mighty coalition," said Rodney.

Woolsey ignored Rodney's outburst and leaned forward, spreading his hands on the end of the console. "Ladon, it doesn't have to be this way. If our people could truly work together, we could accomplish so much in the war with the Wraith. It is wasting resources to fight each other. Can we not put our differences aside and work together in this?"

"I do not believe that is possible. Once perhaps, but not now."

Woolsey sighed and let his chin drop for a moment. "Then I am afraid Dr. McKay's assessment might not be that far off. We will of course remember this lack of cooperation in the future," said Woolsey as he turned to Chuck. "Shut it down."

oOo

John limped heavily along, using his walking stick to help him balance. He'd awoken after a two hour nap feeling marginally better. He had actually gotten almost warm and he no longer felt like he was about to drop in his tracks. His stomach was growling ferociously though and it felt like it was actively seeking food. He'd polished off the small amount Neran had given him during the night.

The bony area just below his knee still ached, but the pain wasn't quite as sharp as before. He was grateful his leg wasn't broken, but he'd apparently bruised the bone. It was slightly swollen and kneeling was going to be out of the question for a while. He could barely bend it and any pressure at all on it was agony.

On the bright side, the sun was out and the forest was thin enough here that it was doing a good job of warming him. His progress was slow, but steady. The ground was also fairly flat and the leaf litter had thinned out, making the going easier. Mid-afternoon he spent some time looking around for food. He found a couple of yellow fruits that had recently fallen off a vine. They were not in good condition, but they looked like the ones Neran had served him, so he cleaned them up as best he could and cut off the bad spots. When he tasted a small piece, it tasted the same, so he ate both of them fairly quickly. It wasn't filling, but the gnawing hunger was at least set back a little.

He spent most of the afternoon trying not to fall and to ignore how hungry he was and the fact that he was out of water. At some point he realized he'd been following what looked like an old path or maybe an extra wide animal trail. He picked up the pace, realizing there was a fairly good chance it could lead to water.

He was surprised when the trail led to a village. He approached slowly, moving from tree to tree to scout it out before blundering in and getting mobbed. The closer he got, he noticed a few things. No smoke coming from the chimneys. No people in the streets, no sounds of people or animals. As he stepped out into what seemed to be the middle street through the small town, he noticed that the buildings, originally made of rock or wood with thatched roofs, were falling apart and in some cases, completely caved in.

No one had lived here in a very long time. On the bad side, no people to talk to or help him or feed him. On the plus side, he could probably salvage enough of one to have a warm place to stay. And If he was not mistaken, he could see a good sized river beyond the other end of the village. He smiled. Things were beginning to look up.

He spent the next hour hobbling around from house to house, looking for the most stable one to settle down in. At the other end of town, he decided to take a break and refill his water bottles. Turning down a side path, he almost missed the house nestled back in a thicket of trees, right up against the side of a hill.

It was made of large rocks that had been painstakingly put together so that their shapes fit. Mud had been used between them as mortar. The house not only looked like it was still pretty stable, it showed very little sign of decay. Mosses and vines had spread from the hillside to cover a lot of the surface and make it almost invisible from the path, a quality John appreciated.

With the water forgotten, he made his way up to the stone house. It was tricky to do while limping since the ground was uneven and rocky. If there had once been a path, it had grown over long ago. Once there, he had to search for the door. The trees were thick here, blocking out most of the sun, and the way the house set up next to the rocky hillside made it seem even darker. Once he found the wooden door, he had to jiggle the handle for a few seconds to persuade it to open.

As expected, the house was extremely dark and cool. There were two small windows that let in enough sun he could just make out where he was going. He looked around long enough to determine the place seemed pretty stable and unlikely to fall in on him and then went outside to gather a few things. He returned about ten minutes later with a torch and took it in so he could check the place out. Chances are this would be his home for the foreseeable future.

The front room was relatively large and seemed to have a living area at one end and a kitchen at the other. Several chairs formed a semicircle around a fireplace. There was a cot in the back corner behind the chairs. At the other end was a counter and some cabinets. A huge bowl sat in a depression looking like a makeshift sink. A table with a couple of chairs was midway between the two areas, no doubt providing a place to eat meals.

Everything was covered in dust or mildew or a combination of the two. John shivered, realizing he'd need to get a fire started soon or it was going to be a long, cold night . . . again. He went back outside, leaving his walking stick against the wall. He still limped to take some of the pressure off his sore leg, but he felt much more steady that he had earlier.

Since he didn't have an axe, he gathered fallen wood and carried it in. He was able to carry in several loads and pile it against the wall by the fireplace without having to go too far. Fortunately, no one had gathered wood here in a while so it was abundant. Maybe he could find some of the things he needed, but Shiana and her council friends had neglected to give him, from the abandoned homes.

The torturous job of cleaning out the chimney came next. He found a really long branch that was fairly strong but flexible and worked it up into the chimney, scraping it around as he went. All manner of old ash, creosote, dirt and even an old bird's nest fell down, much of it all over John. When he thought the chimney seemed open enough, he cleaned out the fireplace and started a fire. The light and the heat were welcome.

Looking outside, he noticed that it was almost dark and he still didn't have any water. He would have to boil water for drinking since he had no idea how safe the river water was. Neran had been drinking water from his river for several years without ill effects, so John hadn't been concerned, but this was a different situation entirely. He didn't need some intestinal parasite since he hadn't found so much as an outhouse yet.

He scrabbled around in the kitchen until he found a bucket and then headed down the path to the river. The fast moving river was pretty broad, probably forty feet across. John had to look for several minutes before finding a way down that wouldn't end up dumping him in.

Once down by the water, he found a small, flattened area where he could stand without sinking in the mud. He cleaned out and filled the bucket almost to the rim. He quickly rinsed the worst of the grime from his arms and face in the cold water, shivering in the cooling air. Getting back up the fairly steep bank without dumping all his water took some effort, but he finally made it to the top. He even managed to keep most of the water in the bucket. His knee was throbbing from the pressure he'd put on it climbing up and down the river bank, so he was anxious to get back to the house.

Arriving back in the cabin, John cleaned off the sturdiest looking chair and sat down, propping his leg on another chair. He was exhausted and cold and hungry and filthy. He now had water, but no food. He needed to finish getting cleaned up, but he had no clean clothes, not enough water for a bath, and it was too cold for that anyway. Sighing, he decided he was just too tired to do a whole lot tonight.

He hadn't noticed any fruit near the village, probably because it was nearing winter. He'd have to check the area for food sources tomorrow. The river was pretty big so it was likely full of fish. Either way there would be no supper tonight.

Gathering his energy, John rummaged around and found the remainder of a set up to boil his water. He'd noticed notches in the wall of the fireplace earlier and some searching unearthed a pole that fit perfectly in the grooves, allowing him to suspend a large pot over the fire. While the water was heating, John cleaned off the bed in the corner and then cleaned himself up as best he could.

After setting the pot of boiled water on the floor to cool, he searched the kitchen cabinets for something to put it in. He discovered some partially burned candles, which he quickly lit so he could better see what he was doing. Shortly after that he found a large clay jar, which he cleaned using a small amount of the hot water. When the water was cool enough he drank a little and poured the rest in the clay pot, loaded up the fireplace with wood and went to bed.

The house was warming up nicely and the stone seemed to absorb the heat and keep the temperature even. John covered up with the long coat from the man who'd attacked him and found he was relatively comfortable. As usual, the last thing on his mind before sleep were thoughts of his team. He wondered how they were doing and if they were any closer to finding him.

When morning came, John felt well rested for a change. His leg was still sore and he had to be careful not to bend it too much or put pressure against it, but he could get around better than he had the day before. His first order of business after he got all the kinks stretched out was to find food. He searched the surrounding forest for any sign of edible roots or fruits.

He finally found a patch of cassa root. It looked like someone had been growing it in a garden in their yard. Fortunately cassa root was one of those plants that once it got started, it tended to spread via an underground stem, so there was quite a bit of it. The biggest problem was crawling around without putting his right knee to the ground. John harvested what he thought he could eat in the next few days and took it back to the house. Chances are he would find it in several yards, so at least he wouldn't starve.

Another trip to the river provided the water he needed for cooking. Back at the house, he hung the pot over the fire and boiled the water for a few minutes while he prepared the roots. Half an hour later, he sat down to a plate of boiled cassa root. It had almost no taste, but his stomach was mighty happy to have food in it.

The rest of the day was spent cleaning out the cabin and investigating what was in the cabinets. He had dishes, cookware, and utensils. He even found a tiny closet with an axe and some garden tools. His morale went up as his prospects for survival got better and better. It was his guess that the village had been here before the DHD was taken or destroyed and pretty much no one had been here since. Apparently no one wanted to climb that mountain. Why the village had been abandoned in the first place was anyone's guess.

In the afternoon he investigated other houses that hadn't completely fallen in. He discovered blankets, some clothes he thought would fit him, rags, towels, and a host of other things. He rigged a fishing pole in the evening and decided he'd go fishing first thing in the morning. It was late in the afternoon when he discovered the back room.

He'd found what appeared to be a hand-made broom and was sweeping the floor in the back when he discovered the back wall of wooden planks had a door in it. He opened it to find another room that was deep in the rock. After examining it for several minutes, he snorted. "It's a cave. They built the house on the front side of a cave and used the cave as a secret spare room."

There were some crates stacked against one wall, probably emergency supplies. After retrieving a candle from the front of the house, he followed the rock wall around to the back of the cave. There was a small opening near the floor that he got down on his hands and his good knee to see into. It went farther back into the hill, but John couldn't tell how far.

"Back door?" he asked himself. That would give him something to explore in the coming days. No way could he crawl around on his knee yet.

He checked the crates and he'd been right about emergency supplies. Some had blankets and clothes and other cloth goods. Some had dried meat and fruit that had been there long enough to look mummified. He shook out and cleaned what was usable and got rid of the old food. Extra blankets were a nice addition to the bed.

Over the next week, he perfected his fishing technique and found his perfect spot. He also discovered it was pretty easy to trap a small squirrel like animal that hung around the trees and tasted a lot like rabbit. He finished cleaning the house and scavenging from the others. By the end of the first week in the abandoned village, he had everything set up like he wanted and a bit of a routine established. He'd even found an old outhouse and persevered to get it back into shape.

Food was bland cassa root, some small green leafy stuff Teyla had showed him one time but he couldn't remember the name of, fish, and not-squirrel. It wasn't going to win any cook offs but it kept his stomach semi-full and his energy up. There was no sign of Edan or his men, but there was no sign of a rescue either. John settled in for the long haul.

oOo

Rodney typed furiously, his eyes searching the database as he scrolled through the descriptions of planets, not one hundred percent sure what he was looking for. He just knew that he had to be doing something. He could feel the anger building again, making him type faster and harder until he was pounding the keys so hard it made his fingertips tingle.

"McKay, you're going to kill that computer if you keep typing like that," said Ronon from behind him.

"Yes, well, I have to vent my anger somehow since I can't wrap my hands around Shiana's spindly throat. I wasn't sure Woolsey would appreciate me trashing the lab." His concentration broke as he thought about Sheppard abandoned on that stupid planet and his fingers skidded across the keyboard, pouring out a line of gibberish on the screen. With a long sigh, he dropped his hands to his lap.

"We'll find him," Ronon said.

The statement was made to cheer him up but it only made him feel angrier and more desperate. He spun around in his chair. "And just how are we going to do that, Conan? Do you have some magic ball I don't know about, because I'm not seeing how it's going to happen. He's out there maybe starving or dying of exposure or injured and we have no way of telling what part of the galaxy he's in, much less what _planet_ he's on. This makes looking for a needle in a haystack look like child's play."

Ronon crossed his arms and stared at him. "You finished?"

Rodney slumped in his chair, the energy flowing out of him. "Yes. For now anyway."

Ronon nodded. "Good. Teyla sent me to fetch you for lunch. She said you need to eat to keep the food in your blood up so you don't get grouchy and pass out. I think you might already be to the grouchy stage."

Rodney stared at the big man. "That's probably the longest speech you've ever made in my presence. I guess I should be honored. And I think she meant I need to keep my blood sugar up. In case you never noticed, I'm pretty much always grouchy. It comes from spending my days working with a bunch of idiots."

Ronon cocked his head. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

Rodney sighed again and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I meant the idiots in the lab. Let's go meet Teyla." He slid off the chair and hoped Ronon didn't notice that the wording left it open for Ronon to be an idiot as well. Right now the only thing he really cared about was finding the colonel before he starved or got eaten by some predator or died of old age waiting on them.

Sheppard had been gone for three weeks and they had exhausted every possible source of information on his whereabouts. Either no one but the three stooges of the Coalition knew where the man was or they were all really good liars. Rodney was starting to get a really bad feeling about their chances of finding the colonel.

oOo

John scratched another mark on the flat stone in the wall beside his cot. Setting the sooty chunk of wood from the fireplace down, he counted the marks. "Four weeks. I've been here four weeks, a month." He sighed. "Come on Rodney, you can find me. I know you can. I need you guys to come get me."

Shaking his head, he pushed the emotions back, shoving down the feelings of abandonment he was so familiar with. No, his team would not quit. He dropped to his bed. His team wouldn't want to quit, but IOA was in charge and they weren't quite so fond of him. The IOA had forced John to stop looking for Elizabeth, to abandon her to the replicators. They would force the expedition to stop looking for him when they decided it was hopeless. Had they already been shut down? How long would they let them look? Leaning over, he put his face in his hands as despair washed over him.

He allowed himself a few minutes to wallow in self pity, and then he mentally slapped himself. _Buck up, John. You can't just lie down and die. You keep going and you keep hoping. It's what you do. If Ronon can run from the Wraith for seven years, you can fend for yourself without giving up. At least there are no Wraith here._

That made him wonder if Wraith ever came here. Shaking his head, he got up. If they came here very often, there wouldn't be all these people trapped here. No sense worrying about it. He stood there a moment, trying to decide what to do today. He was bored with the daily rituals of water hauling and food gathering and generally rummaging around.

The tunnel. His knee was better. Not great, but better. It was time to check out the tunnel and see if it led to a back door that could come in handy later on. John got one of his candles and took it to what he had dubbed the cave room. Clearing the entry, he got down on the ground and army crawled his way into the tunnel. Once inside, he found he could stand as long as he hunched over at the waist.

The passage was narrow and winding so that he could never see more than a few feet in front of him. He prayed he didn't stumble upon a nest of iratus bugs or something equally dangerous. After walking for several minutes, his back was beginning to complain when the tunnel ended in a larger room that allowed him to stand upright. He stretched the kinks out of his back as he waved the candle around to examine the space.

The room was about the size of his cottage front room. The ceiling was barely tall enough for him to stand in except over by the far wall, where it suddenly arched up to almost fifteen feet. Near the top was an opening about the size of the one he had just crawled through to enter the passage. Although the tunnel had been clear up to now, there were several large rocks against the wall that formed a sort of stairway. He crawled up them and found when he was standing on the highest rock, the opening was even with his lower chest.

Looking out, he first saw only trees and brush, but he could hear the river. Sticking his head out and looking down, he found the opening was in the side of a rocky cliff with scattered spindly trees and the river running along the base. He could see flatter land on the other side of the river with forest coming near the edge of the land. He was upstream from his normal watering hole.

Pulling himself up, he sat on the edge of the opening, hanging out to see if he could use this as an escape route if needed. When he looked up, he found the opening was pretty close to the top of the cliff. He grabbed hold of one of the small trees growing out of the side of the cliff and hoisted himself up to the top, using trees and irregularities in the rock surface as handholds.

After a minute or so of scrabbling, he found himself lying on the top of the hill in a sparsely forested glade. The air was cool on his skin, but the sun felt good on his face. The cold ground began seeping into his backside, so he made himself roll over and push to his feet. He spent almost an hour exploring the area since he had little else to do. Eventually he got cold though and began looking for a way off the hill.

The first two ways he tried ended in steep drop offs that sent him back the way he came. It took another hour to find a safe way off the hill and back to his little home. That was actually a good thing though. He had an emergency exit if he needed it and as long as he didn't leave a huge trail, the way off the hill would not be apparent to anyone pursuing him. He, however, knew exactly what to do to escape. If he was going to be stuck here by himself for a long time, it could definitely be a lot worse.

He thought about going back for Neran. This was a lot more comfortable than that cave and probably a lot warmer since the winter had decided to set in. The problem would be traversing that mountain. It was undoubtedly a lot more dangerous in the colder weather and probably had more snow. Neran had been okay here for almost three years. He'd be okay for a little longer. If John was still here in the spring, he'd go fetch Neran and bring him back. By then, Edan would have forgotten him and there would be little chance of them following.

When he reached the cottage, he went straight to the cave room and covered the entrance with a stack of crates. He felt safer with it closed off, especially now that he knew he led to the outside. He didn't want any mountain lions or such finding their way in, although he had yet to see any big predators. He'd seen a couple of animals about the size of a bobcat either capturing or eating the same squirrel like animals he'd been dining on before the big temperature drop, but that was it.

John grabbed leftover fish and vegetables from the night before, donned the heavy coat he'd procured from one of the huts, and made his way down the path to flat rock overlooking the river. He ate the cold food, watching the water rush past the reeds at the edge. He'd found a wooden box and sealed it with some tree sap that seemed to dry almost like a sheet of rubber or plastic. It was cold enough now that the temperature hovered just above or below freezing most of the time, allowing John to safely store leftovers for short periods. He just had to store them outside in such a way they didn't attract animals.

He sat there for a long time, watching the river and trying not to think of spending the rest of his life here. What would they tell Dave? Would they tell him anything? Would they say he was missing or KIA? Who would command Atlantis? Caldwell was his bet, even though the man had stopped circling like a vulture a couple of years ago. The colonel had mellowed a bit over the years and seen some of the crazy stuff Pegasus could throw at you. He'd probably be more qualified than anyone unless someone got behind Lorne to promote him. He knew Lorne would do an excellent job and found himself rooting for the major.

Shaking himself out of his fugue for the second time in one day, John decided he needed a project. He'd seen some places where they smoked meat to preserve it and had thought once or twice he needed a change in the food selection. Maybe he could build something to smoke or dehydrate the meat. That would preserve as well as change the flavor.

Standing, he brushed himself off and shivered. He needed to start gathering materials. He found himself looking forward to the project, just to have something different to do and occupy his mind. Plus, there would come a time when the weather took a turn for the worse and he couldn't go out and gather food. He needed an emergency supply. Clapping his hands together, he grabbed his homemade lunch box and headed back to the cabin, sketching out blueprints for what he needed in his mind.

oOo

It was early one morning when John got careless. He was going down to the river to fish. The weather was cool, but not as cold as it had been. The slick patch on the side of the bank caught him by surprise and he fell, tumbling into the fast moving river.

Brushing by some sticks and tree stumps, his felt his arm catch and the fabric of his shirt tear, but he was more worried about not getting swept downstream. He grabbed and lurched until he caught hold of a log. After several minutes he was able to haul himself out of the water. Lying on the bank, he was panting and shivering and his leg was throbbing all over again.

John pulled himself up and noted a huge tear that had taken out most of his left sleeve. It seemed to be stuck to a branch sticking up out of the water, but John didn't care. He figured getting hung on that stick had slowed him enough that he could grab onto the log. With a sigh, he hauled himself up the bank and limped back to the house. It was warm inside, so he changed out of the wet clothes and put on some of the dry ones he'd procured. It had taken him several minutes to get back to the house, so he ended up wrapping himself in a blanket and sitting in front of the fire to try to knock the chill out. He shivered for a while, not quite able to get warm. At some point he dozed off.

When he woke, the fire was almost out and the cabin was getting cold. He untangled himself from the blanket and stretched, his joints feeling like they had fused together. His head ached and sound was muffled, indicating he must have gotten his ears full of water. Swaying, he rubbed his face and lurched toward the fireplace to rebuild the fire. He stirred the embers around, wishing he'd brought wood in earlier because he was cold and he felt like crap.

Pushing to his feet, he opened the door to discover it was pouring down rain outside. He stood there, staring at the downpour, trying to wrap his head around how badly he'd messed up. He had no food other than a few roots and some dried almost squirrel. His wood was soaking wet. The plan had been to restock food and wood stores this afternoon. He'd let them run low because the temperature had been brutally cold last week and today had been the first non-frigid day for a while. His unplanned swim in the river had thrown his schedule off and now everything was soaking wet.

Slamming the door, he went back to his chair and wrapped up in the blanket. The candles were almost out and the house was dark. John sat there for a while, trying to formulate a plan. His brain felt like it was in neutral and he couldn't seem to get it going again. The next thing he knew, he woke up coughing to find it was dark and the fire was completely out.

"Great. This day gets better and better," he muttered, scratching his beard. He stumbled to his feet and went to the door to check outside. Night had fallen and the rain had slowed to a drizzle. It had gotten even warmer during the day and he guessed the temperature to be a balmy forty or maybe forty-five. At least he wouldn't freeze to death. He had plenty of blankets to layer over him for the night. Maybe the rain would stop and he could dig around for some dry wood tomorrow. The wind had been howling all afternoon, at least it had during the part he'd been awake for. Maybe it would help dry things out a little faster.

Closing the door, he had dried meat and some left over boiled cassa root for supper. He spent several minutes trying to work the water out of his ears, but to no avail. Giving up, he spread some extra blankets on the bed and turned in for the night. Maybe he'd feel better in the morning.

oOo

John slept hard the first part of the night. Mid-way through, however, a coughing fit woke him up. He got up long enough to get a drink of water and then huddled back under the blanket. His head felt detached from the rest of his body, a weird feeling that always heralded being sick as a dog the next day. His throat was scratchy and he kept getting chilled. The rest of the night was spent dozing in and out until he finally just ended up wishing it was morning already.

He opened his eyes to realize he had finally gone to sleep and slivers of light from the cracks around the shutters were announcing morning. He could still hear the swaying trees scratching against the little house from the wind, but no sound of rain. Hopefully that meant it had let up. Better still if the sun would pop out and help warm and dry things up.

Shivering, he made himself get out of bed. He was glad he'd worn some of the thick socks he'd found to bed because he could feel the coolness of the wood floor even through the fabric. Resting one hand against the rock wall to steady himself, he made his daily mark once the room had stopped shifting around. His head felt full and stuffy and achy. His scratchy throat was sore on top of everything else. He was well and truly sick.

"Standing here isn't going to get me anywhere," he muttered to himself, clearing his throat. He staggered over to the door and pulled it open. It was still early, but what he could see of the sky looked at least partially clear. Time to get to work.

Shaking off the lethargy, he got dressed and headed out to gather wood. The sun was out and felt warm against his skin when the wind wasn't blowing. He took the cart he'd cobbled together from random parts and pulled it far enough into the woods where there were dead branches and limbs littering the ground. He'd cut some wood a few weeks ago, but it needed to season some more. He dug around to gather wood that had been somewhat sheltered from the rain and therefore wasn't as wet.

Once he was back at the cabin, he laid his wood out on some rocks in the sun so that hopefully they would be dry enough by evening to light. He had to sit down then, as he was gasping for breath and coughing so much he was getting dizzy. He remained there, soaking up the sun until the wind picked back up, making him cold.

Food. He didn't think he could fish right now, so opted for the easier harvesting of cassa roots and some greens if he could find them. Limping across the village, he didn't realize he'd zoned out until suddenly he heard voices. He froze and listened, frowning in concentration.

There were two or three different ones and he didn't recognize any of them. They were coming down the main road through town, so John immediately slipped back down the side road he was on, hiding behind a cluster of trees near the caved in home facing the main road. As they got closer, the voices became more distinct.

". . . no idea there was a whole town here." The voice was deep, sort of like Ronon but with a different accent.

"Hey, if any of these are still in decent shape, maybe we can get some supplies from them," said a second voice.

John leaned around the tree and watched until four men came into his field of view. Peering through a myriad of branches, he watched them walking down the road toward him. They were all of medium height and build, dressed much like the band he'd encountered at the gate in rough clothing that looked as though it had seen better days. They all had long hair and beards, typical of men living in a world without simple things like razors and scissors.

They stopped, turning as they studied the houses around them. The guy with the longest beard and the best coat seemed to be in charge of the little group. John ducked back behind his tree before they saw him.

"You think that Sheppard guy is here?"

"It'd be a good bet. I know if I hiked over that mountain and then came across a cushy place like this, that's where I'd set myself up. The houses all look like they're falling in, but I'll bet there's one or two that could be made livable."

"What'd ya think we should do?"

"Let's split up into two groups. Yahrin, you go with me. We'll take the buildings on this side of the road and you two take the other side. If you find anything useful, set it outside the house and we'll round everything up later. Nothing heavy cause we've got to haul it over that mountain. If you come across that Sheppard fellow, hold him and give a yell."

"Hold him? He's killed everyone that's ever come after him. I don't know why Edan sent us in the first place or why it had to be done now. Wherever he is, he ain't bothering any of us. I say let's just grab what we can and go back, tell him we couldn't find him."

That suggestion was followed by the sound of someone getting knocked down, so there was no doubt what bearded guy thought of that even before he vocalized it. "We care because he killed Mantsu. You know Edan and him went way back, even before they were sent here. It took three tries for anyone to find his body so we knew he was dead. We either kill Sheppard or we haul him back so Edan can kill him slowly. If we can't find him, it would probably be best we don't go back."

John slid a look around the tree. The youngest of the three was picking himself up from the road and wiping blood from his chin, scowling at the older man. "Maybe staying here isn't such a bad thing. At least we'd have decent shelter and access to water."

The balding man standing next to him crossed his arms. "And what would you eat? Our shelter may not be constructed as well as these are, provided some of them haven't completely caved in, but I haven't seen much to eat. Would you rather have better shelter or a steady food supply?"

The younger guy hung his head and shrugged one shoulder. "Food I guess," he mumbled.

Old guy with the beard laughed and slapped him across the shoulder. "I knew there was a brain in there somewhere. Now get to work and watch your back. Holler if you see any sign Sheppard's been here."

John waited until they had split up and each pair had entered a house before slipping off. They would know he was here in the next few minutes because he'd meticulously ransacked every dwelling for anything he thought might be useful over the last few weeks. Since his cottage was at the other end of the village, he figured he had an hour or so before they got there. With only twenty or so homes in the whole village and most of them looted of anything useful, it wasn't going to take them long.

When he reached the cottage, he went in and closed the door, opening the shutters to provide enough light he could see. The place was obviously occupied and he didn't have time to change that. His best bet was to make it look like he'd left a while ago so maybe they wouldn't look too hard for him, at least not around here.

Glancing at the fireplace, he found himself thankful that the fire had gone out the day before so that it was cold. The place was too neat. He rounded up everything he didn't want the bandits to make off with and hauled it to the back room. Pushing crates out of the way, he put everything in the cave.

Going back to the front room, he tried to mess things up a little, to look like he'd gathered what he could carry and left. Two of his threadbare blankets remained on the bed. He took some of the fine ashes from the fireplace and went around the room blowing them off his hand to make it look like dust had settled on all the surfaces.

When he thought he heard their voices carrying on the wind, he silently closed the shutters and crept into the back room, shutting and bolting the door from the inside. Setting up a way to lock the door from the inside had been one of his smarter moves. He slid into the cave and pulled the stack of empty crates over to block and hide the entrance, just in case they broke through the door. Then he waited.

It was several minutes before he heard them enter the cabin. The voices were muffled, but they were talking loud enough he could pick out most of what they were saying. It sounded like the older bearded guy and one other.

"Looks like he's been living here. Makes sense. It's in the best shape."

"Yeah, but it doesn't look like he's been here recently. No fire and hasn't been for at least a day. Even the ashes are cold."

He could hear them clumping around for several minutes, probably checking out the cabinets. They were talking, but not loud enough for him to understand. It got quiet for several minutes and then there was a loud banging noise. It was closer than the other noises had been and made him jump in response. Crap, it sounded like they were banging on the door to the back room. It was time to leave just in case they found it.

He slipped down the cave tunnel to the opening at the other end. Pulling himself up to the top of the hill, he carefully made his way around and down until he was just behind where the roof of the cottage attached the hill. Fortunately there was a slight rise here, and he lay flat in the depression just past the rise so he couldn't be seen. Peering carefully over the hill, he could see the other two men coming up the path from the river, talking between them.

Bearded guy and his companion came out of the house to meet them. "He's been living here," said bearded guy. "But it looks like he's been gone for a few days."

The young guy from earlier practically beamed as he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. "We know where he went."

John's heart rate jumped up as he crouched down. Had he let them see him? He got ready to make a run for it. It would take them several minutes to figure out how to get up there and that would give him a head start.

"Well, where is he?" asked bearded guy's companion impatiently.

"He drowned."

What? No he didn't. John let out a breath and peeked over the hill again. Bearded guy looked skeptical. "What makes you think that?"

Young guy grinned as he rocked back and forth. "We can see where he's been going down to the river to get water. Looks like he slipped." He held up a piece of wet fabric. "We found this clinging to a branch several feet out in the water. It's part of a sleeve and it hasn't been there but a few days, maybe a week. It's in too good a shape. We scouted around and didn't find any sign he made it back to shore. The water is high and moving really fast where we found this. Either he got washed way downstream or he drowned."

The older guy stroked his beard. "Even if he made it ashore downstream, he'd probably be too cold to make it back in this weather. Either way, it's a good bet he's dead and we have no way to track the body."

"Will Edan take our word he's dead?" asked the young guy hopefully.

Bearded guy looked at the fabric a moment and then nodded. "He'll take my word. We're done here."

Young guy nodded. "We heading back now?"

The older guy looked at the sky, and frowned. "No, it's late and looks like some more weather moving in. We'd better wait til morning. We get trapped up on that mountain in a snowstorm and we'll probably freeze to death." He waved one hand toward the cabin. "We can stay in Sheppard's old place tonight and leave in the morning as long as we don't get too much ice or snow."

"What if we get a lot of snow?" asked the kid.

"Then we stay here until it clears enough we can make it up that mountain to the pass through the rocks. Once we get that far, we'll be sheltered from the weather and we shouldn't have any trouble."

 _There's a sheltered pass?_ John chewed his lip. That would have made the trip a lot easier. That would also explain how that man he killed had seemed to pop up out of nowhere. He'd probably come out of this pass they were talking about.

Shaking off his thoughts, he looked back down to find the quartet breaking up. Tuning back in, he concentrated on hearing what they were saying.

The bearded old guy was talking. " . . . but it seems to just be part of the wall. I was hoping it would lead to a storage room of stuff we could use, but it was too solid to be a door. So let's separate and find some kind of food. He had to be surviving off something." With a quick nod, they headed different directions and were soon out of sight.

John lay back against the ground. Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, he was exhausted and thirsty. He'd never crawled back down into the cave, but he was going to need to at some point. He wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep there, in case they decided to try the door again. Once they got back, it would probably be better if he slept somewhere else in the village. He was pretty hidden hunkered down in the little ravine, so he thought maybe he should lay low while they looked around.

The next thing John knew, it was dark and he was so cold he was shivering. The temperature had dropped several degrees. He rubbed his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He lifted up to look over the rise, but couldn't see anything in the dark. He listened, straining to hear voices. He thought he picked up muffled voices coming from below. Glancing up, he sighed. Smoke drifted out of the chimney, confirming that were probably inside, nice and warm and dry.

Pushing up, he limped and hobbled around for several moments, feeling every bit of his age and the damage his body had taken over the years. He headed back up the hill, trying to decide whether to climb back down to his cave in the dark. The temperature continued to fall and as he reached the summit, it began to snow. By the time he found where he'd climbed up out of his cave tunnel, the trees and rocks were slick with ice and snow. It would be stupid to attempt the descent under these conditions.

He had an emergency hideout set up across town. It looked like he'd be using it tonight. He couldn't go down the hill the way he normally did; it came out too close to the cottage and he couldn't take a chance of being seen. He wandered around in the dark over an hour before he found a route that got him close enough to the bottom of the hill he thought he could make it.

The problem was that the last ten feet was really steep. Probably not a problem if he had light or even if it hadn't decided to snow. The temperature had been steadily dropping and ice was beginning to cover all the rock faces. John stared at the hill and decided he was just going to have to risk it. He was headed toward hypothermia if he didn't get inside soon. Turning around, he found a couple of good hand holds and began his descent. And immediately slipped and fell, hurtling off the rocks to the ground below.

He landed partially on his side, ramming his sore leg into the rock-strewn ground and whiting out his brain with pain. He didn't know how long he lay there, gasping and moaning. Time had no meaning for a while. As the pain subsided, his shivering grew worse. Cursing under his breath, he pushed himself up and used the huge rock he'd almost bashed his head on to get to his feet. "Idiot," he muttered to himself.

He stood for a few moments, getting his balance set and his bearings. With a deep breath, he began staggering toward the opposite end of the village. The ground was slick in places. Between the icy ground, his throbbing leg, and the wind that had decided to blow like a screaming banshee, he almost didn't make it.

Finally arriving at his emergency shelter, he stepped into the partially collapsed house. It was off the main road through town, which was a plus. He'd picked this one because even though the roof was partially caved in, it had fallen in such a way that it was securely braced and formed a little cave like area in the corner. John had arranged debris around it so that the opening was hidden unless you were trying to climb into it.

It took a few minutes for John to crawl behind the collapsed roof into what he called his emergency cave. The space was narrow, but almost nine feet long. John had put down a layer of the tough grass the villagers had covered their roof with. He had several blankets stored there, along with a clay pot of drinking water and another with dried fish. He changed them out every few days in case he ever had to use it. He was grateful for it now since he hadn't had anything to eat all day.

When he reached for the water pot, something furry jumped out and ran past him, brushing against his arm. John jumped and yelped. He had no idea what it was. All he'd seen was a flash of fur in the darkness. The lids were still on the clay pots, so he was okay there. Apparently his reasoning for putting the food and water in animal-proof containers had been sound. The water was a little stale, but cool and felt good in his dry mouth and scratchy throat.

When he spread the blanket out, he found a couple of holes where his furry friend had been trying to make a nest. He hoped the guy didn't come back in the middle of the night to reclaim his territory. For a moment he could hear Rodney in his head, rambling about alien parasites and diseases he was likely to catch from the critter, making him smile.

Then John got himself settled, wrapped in the blankets and sheltered by the hanging roof and was almost warm. He felt horrible. His throat was scratchy and sore, his leg throbbed along with his head, and congestion was building in his chest.

"Come on, Rodney," he whispered. "Find me. Please, find me."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Please excuse my fumbling attempt at medical stuff. If you see anything too horrendous, please let me know and tell me how to fix it.

Banished Chapter 3

Rodney reported to Woolsey's office. "What's going on?" he asked.

Woolsey pointed to the chair across from his desk, which Rodney sat in. "What?"

Straightening his jacket, Woolsey stood up. "The Daedalus will be here late this afternoon. I've been informed that Colonel Caldwell will be acting commander of the military until they decide who Colonel Sheppard's replacement will be. The Daedalus will remain here until the situation is resolved."

Rodney jumped to his feet. "No, no, no! Sheppard isn't dead, we just can't find him right now. You can't stop looking for him. He's out there somewhere, depending on us."

Woolsey sighed. "Dr. McKay, it's been eleven weeks and we are still no closer to finding him than the day he was sent through the gate. You need to accept the fact that he's gone, at least to us. Hopefully he was able to get everything he needed to survive, but the fact is that we may never know."

Rodney could feel the heat and anger creeping up his neck. "So that's it? He takes the fall for everything anyone in this city has ever done and we all just turn our backs and go on like nothing happened. This is so not fair. He would never give up on finding any one of us . . . including you."

Woolsey winced. "Be that as it may, we are discontinuing all _official_ search parties for the colonel. We must get on with the business of Atlantis, doctor." After a pause, he sighed, his eyes boring into Rodney's. "At least, that is the _official_ position of the IOA."

Rodney opened his mouth to protest, but sputtered when the meaning of Woolsey's words sank in. "That is the official _IOA_ position. Where does that leave us? We told him not to give up, that we would come for him."

Woolsey nodded and massaged the bridge of his nose. "I am aware, Dr. McKay. I was there." Before he could say more, the alarm for an off world activation began blaring. Jumping at the sudden noise, the two men hurried out to the control room. Woolsey couldn't help but hope that Sheppard had somehow rescued himself and was looking to come home.

Chuck touched several tiles and looked up. "Sir, it's a radio transmission."

"Patch it through," said Woolsey.

" _To whom am I speaking?"_ said a frantic voice.

Woolsey frowned and looked at McKay. "This is Richard Woolsey."

" _Thank goodness, Mr. Woolsey. This is Dimas. Wraith are attacking my planet."_

Woolsey's eyes widened as Rodney snorted. "And why are you contacting us about it?"

" _I contact you because the Wraith are taking my people and the Genii have refused to come. They say it is our problem, not theirs."_

Woolsey crossed his arms. "I honestly do not know what you expect me to do about it. It was made clear to me that your planet and several others do not welcome our assistance and so none will be rendered. When I told you there would be consequences to your actions, I was not bluffing."

" _Please help us,"_ screamed Dimas _. "I had to do what I did. Shiana threatened us if she didn't get her way!"_

"That's too bad, but I must go now and try to find my military commander. It seems the coalition has misplaced him." Woolsey began turning to the monitor to tell Chuck to sever the connection when Dimas yelled.

" _Wait! I . . . I can tell you where he is."_

Woolsey's arm stilled. "You can tell me where Colonel Sheppard is?"

" _Yes, just please come."_

"There is the little matter of us walking into another trap. Perhaps you and the others have decided banishing Colonel Sheppard is not enough."

Dimas sounded like he was near tears as he begged. " _No, I have escaped with a few others to the planet of the Cardinians. Wraith are attacking my home world as we speak. You must hurry. I give you my word that it is not a trap and there will be no punishment."_

"If we go, we will not be able to save everyone. Are we going to be held responsible for those we could not save or accused of somehow making the situation worse?"

" _No, no, just please hurry."_

"I will send through people to help, but you will come here and share the gate address of the planet where you left Colonel Sheppard. Agreed?"

" _Yes, I promise."_

"All right. We are lowering the shield. You will need to come through." He nodded at Chuck, who lowered the shield. Glancing over at Major Lorne, who had been following the situation, he saw him go down to the lower level to help cover the wormhole in case an attack force came through.

A few seconds later Dimas came through to a ring of soldiers with their weapons pointed straight at him. He seemed frightened until Lorne came and got him, escorting him upstairs.

"How do you know he won't let us send help and then clam up?" asked Rodney.

"I have a plan," said Woolsey. "Send a MALP through to his planet to confirm the Wraith attack."

As Dimas and Lorne arrived upstairs, Woolsey turned to Lorne. "Get a strike force ready to go help these people with the Wraith attack."

"Yes, sir. We'll need to go in jumpers so we can go in cloaked and evaluate the situation."

Woolsey nodded. "The details of the mission are at your discretion, Major. Take whatever you need."

Lorne left to get the strike force together. Dimas babbled for several minutes about how sorry he was, how sorry the Genii were in general, and how he never should have trusted them. After a couple of minutes, the MALP went through the gate, sending them pictures of a town burning and the sound of darts zooming through the air.

"I need the gate address for the colonel," he said as Dimas watched the jumper descending from the jumper bay.

"How do I know you will not divert them to Colonel Sheppard instead of sending them to help my world?"

Rodney blurted, "Could you blame us if we did?"

After sending a glare to Rodney, Woolsey looked at Dimas with sad eyes. "Because that's not the way we do things around here. And I think you know that."

Dimas looked up sharply at Woolsey and then sighed and nodded. He took the paper and pencil that had been laid out before him and wrote down the symbols. Woolsey nodded and sent the teams on their way. Four cloaked jumpers left one by one through the gate.

oOo

It was several hours later when Lorne and the others returned. The town had lost a lot of people, but they had managed to get quite a few to safety. They had also gotten a lot of the fires out so that the whole city wasn't destroyed.

"Sir, have you been to get Colonel Sheppard yet?" asked Lorne.

"No, I wanted to keep the gate open in case you needed reinforcements. And I knew Ronon and Teyla would want to accompany you.''

"I'd like to go get Colonel Sheppard then, sir."

Woolsey nodded. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Ronon and Teyla returned from their mission a short time ago. You'll find Colonel Sheppard's team in the conference room, waiting on the okay to go get him."

Lorne ran up the stairs to the conference room and looked inside. Rodney and Ronon were pacing back and forth while Teyla encouraged them to sit down and save their energy. Ronon whirled around to snap back at her but stopped when he saw Lorne standing in the doorway.

"So who wants to go with me to get Sheppard?" asked Lorne.

"Well it's about time," snapped Rodney as he stormed past. "Come on, the colonel's been waiting on us for almost three months . . . provided of course that he's still alive."

"He is alive," said Teyla confidently as she passed the major.

Lorne joined them on the steps to the jumper bay. "Let's not keep him waiting any longer then."

oOo

Coughing and the inability to breathe through his nose woke John. He immediately sat up, alternating coughing with clearing his throat until he'd ejected enough phlegm he could draw a breath. Rubbing his eyes, he looked toward the end of his little tunnel to see it was fairly light in the room. He'd apparently slept in. He probably needed it from the way he felt. His skin felt too hot and overly sensitive, which meant he had a fever to go along with his pounding head and heavy chest. Even his eyes burned.

John rubbed his face, trying to wake up. He felt light-headed and just a little disconnected, like all this was a dream. Snorting he thought, _if only._ After a few moments, he scooted out of his hidden den and peered out, listening for any sign of Edan's crew. After a couple of minutes, he crawled out and shuffled through the dusting of snow on the floor to crack the door open.

The cold air blasted him in the face, making him shiver. Loose snow swirled around on the ground, making small drifts against some of the buildings. His big fear had not come to fruition, that there would be enough snow to show tracks. That would have limited his movement. It apparently hadn't snowed very heavily or very long. Between that and the gusting wind, the snow coverage was scattered and uneven. As long as he moved carefully, he shouldn't leave a trail.

He looked up at the cloudy sky, judging the hour and whether it might snow some more. It was hard to tell with the cloud cover, but he guessed it to be around nine. After quickly relieving himself in the nearest cluster of trees, he went back to his hiding place and crawled in, burrowing down in the blankets. He felt horrible and if he went out too early, he'd more than likely just get himself caught. His intention was to just lie there and keep warm for a while, but with nothing to occupy him, he quickly dozed off.

When he woke again, he felt marginally better. He was still congested and his throat still itched and hurt, but his headache had gone down a notch or two and he wasn't as dizzy. He drank the rest of the water and finished off the dried fish before attempting to move around. By the time he made it to the door, he was fully awake and ready to see if his _friends_ had moved on.

John carefully made his way to the trees around his cabin. Chuckling softly, he wondered when he'd begun thinking of it as _his_ cabin. He stared at the place, realizing that he was probably stuck here. It had been almost three months. And while he knew his team would never give up on him, the IOA and Stargate Command would soon tire of resources being used in what might turn out to be a fruitless search.

Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, he focused on the fact that if he was indeed stuck here, he had a fairly nice little cabin to live in with plenty of water. Once the weather was better, he could work on bettering the food supply. And he could always hike back over the mountain and see if Neran wanted to join him here so he'd have some company. He figured between the two of them, they could have themselves set up pretty well by the time the next winter rolled around.

Seeing no sign of his stalkers, he selected a rock and threw it at the door. When he got no response, he was about to repeat the process when he looked up and slapped himself in the forehead. No smoke. If they were still there, they wouldn't have let the fire go out. He felt dumb, but decided to lay the slip off on the fever he currently sported.

Slinking up to the door, he carefully pushed it open and stepped inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the light from the open door casting deep shadows in the room. Walking in, he immediately felt a sense of violation. The cabinets stood open, having been ransacked for anything useful. They were almost bare. About the only things not taken were the clay storage pots, probably because they were heavy and bulky. His bed had been stripped and was a bare, grass stuffed mattress. They had even found the box in the corner with several sets of extra clothes and a good coat. He groaned at the loss, realizing he'd never moved the crate to the back room with the other stuff.

With his hands on his hips, he decided nothing would get done just standing here. They had scattered stuff all across the cabin in their search for anything they could take with them. He decided the first order of business was to clean out the fireplace and get a fire going. The room was cold and so was he.

After getting a fire started, he decided he needed more light to see what he was doing. He was going to have to ransack the other houses again to collect the broken dishes he'd left behind unless he wanted to eat directly off the wooden table. Stupid thieves. He should have moved the dishes too. They had taken all his candles, so he headed for the store room to get some more. When the door wouldn't open, he remembered it was bolted from the inside.

Crap. He was going to have to climb down into his exit cave, something he'd never had to do before. At least it was light. It took him almost an hour to hike back to the hill above the entrance. The hill was steep and slick in places, plus he was sick and his leg throbbed with the effort.

Once there, he peered over the edge and sighed. This was going to be tricky at best. With a deep breath, he gripped the slender trunk of a tree and began backing down the cliff face, searching for a foothold with his toes. He only slipped once, his right foot sliding out of a narrow crevice. His hands slid down the rough bark of the tree he was gripping as his weight swung out, killing his balance. It was several nerve-wracking moments before he was firmly gripping the rock face again. One step later, he was crawling into the cave.

He sat on the floor of the cave for a few minutes, muscles quivering as he wheezed and gasped for air. His heart rate and breathing finally slowed enough he felt he could go on. John hobbled and limped down the narrow passageway, crouching at the end to listen. Hearing nothing, he pushed the crates away from the opening and crawled out into the spare room. Lying on the floor, he smiled. The hard part was over and his cabin should be warming up by now.

John groaned when he realized he still had to collect more wood, water, and dig up some more cassa root. At least he'd be home tonight instead of sleeping in a collapsed house with the Pegasus version of mice. Pushing himself to his feet, he slid the crates back against the hole and lifted the two bolts from their place across the door. He shouldn't be this tired already.

Opening the door, his jaw dropped. Old, bearded guy stood there grinning at him, his arms crossed. "Hello, Colonel Sheppard. It's nice to see you didn't drown in the river after all."

John reached for his knife, but old guy was expecting that and tackled him just as he was pulling the knife free from its sheath. John went down hard, knocking the breath out of him. The rest of Edan's party joined in and pretty soon John was face down on the ground with someone's knee in his back. Between the fever and the knock on the head, he was a little woozy for several minutes.

The next thing he knew, he was lying on his back in the main room with his hands tied in front of him, looking up at old guy. The man was smirking at him. "Should have waited a little longer before starting a fire, Sheppard."

John sighed and closed his eyes a moment. What a boneheaded move. He should have thought about how much smoke was produced when he started a new fire. He always used a bunch of dead leaves, chunks of bark, and tiny twigs and they always smoked like crazy. The small amount of smoke produced by logs was mostly hidden in the branches of the surrounding trees. But a new fire on a cold, clear day would be like sending a smoke signal that said _Sheppard is still here._

While they argued about whether to head back for their own camp or stay for the night, John thought about how screwed he was. It would be hard to get away from four of them, but if he didn't, he was facing a death sentence. He would have to look for an opening before they got back to Edan.

While they ransacked his back room for more supplies, he made a plan. It would probably take three days, maybe four since they were getting a late start, to get back. He would spend the first day or two trying to look like he was weak and had given up. Hopefully they would let their guard down and he could get away.

No time like the present to start. He gave in to the tickle in his throat and coughed until he had to roll onto his side and curl up a bit to breathe. Playing into the exhaustion that followed, he lay limply, wheezing as he gasped for breath.

He knew from their footsteps they had gathered around him during the coughing fit. Someone leaned over to touch his forehead and he forced himself to lie still. "He's burning up, Mahren."

A foot pushed him back over onto his back and he opened his eyes a slit to look up at them. "What?"

"How long have you been sick?" asked old guy.

John figured he'd be truthful since it only supported his plan. "Fell in the river three days ago. Got sick pretty soon after that."

Old guy sighed and looked at the others. "Well, at least you were right about him falling in. Just looks like he got himself out though. We'd better go ahead and leave now. We should be able to make it to that small cave at the base of the mountain. We can shelter there for the night. Grab all the supplies and let's head out."

Old guy, who was apparently named Mahren, pulled him to his feet while the others grabbed the bags they had made from blankets. Mahren picked up one and handed it to John. "Here, you can help carry stuff."

John caught the bag so it wouldn't smack him in the face. It felt like it was full of clothes or blankets and was awkward to carry with his hands tied together. "I don't suppose you could untie me. This is going to be hard to hang onto like this."

"You'll manage," said Mahren as he pushed him in the back, herding him out the door. Just when John was beginning to accept his plight here and trying to be positive about it, he was being marched to his execution. As if reading his thoughts, Mahren said, "If you cooperate on the trip back, I'll put in a good word for you with Edan. Maybe he won't torture you as long before he kills you."

John grimaced. "Wow, thanks," he deadpanned. "I'm guessing you don't have a side job as a motivational speaker."

The guy didn't comment, just poked John in the back to make him walk faster. For the next three hours, John coughed at every tickle and sometimes staggered a bit when the coughing got bad. Once he coughed so hard, he dropped his pack in time to turn away and throw up. He'd been tempted to throw up on it, but he was trying to look pathetic and weak so he didn't want them mad at him.

He was tired and cold. His head and leg throbbed. He'd been limping for a while and it was steadily getting worse as the pain kept going up and up. They had asked about the limp and he'd told them, more fuel for his plan. The problem was that he really did hurt and he really was coughing, wheezing, and feverish. And when he finally fell flat on the ground, it was because he really was dizzy.

"Get up," said Mahren with a kick to his leg.

"Look, just give me a minute," he snarled, sitting up so he could breathe as he coughed. When he finally got his breath, he looked up at Mahren's angry expression. He was distracted from saying anything else by a familiar sound. He cocked his head, ignoring his captors as he tried to identify the sound. Mahren was getting impatient at his lack of response and kicked him again, harder this time.

The air seemed to shimmer and then he heard a booming voice. "Kick him again and you're dead." As the men jerked and looked around for the source, John grinned, hope surging inside him. The air shimmered again and a jumper materialized as it landed. John had never seen such a beautiful sight.

The back hatch lowered. Ronon came out, followed by four marines and the rest of his team. When Mehran moved toward them, Ronon stunned him. The other three immediately dropped their knives and put their hands up. John would have laughed if he hadn't felt so bad.

Rodney and Teyla ran to him as Lorne joined the party.

"John, are you all right?" asked Teyla as she kneeled beside him.

John could tell he was grinning like an idiot. "I am now. Good timing, by the way."

Rodney sighed. "We're sorry it took so long. This planet is apparently a really big secret."

John nodded. "I know. I wasn't sure if you'd ever be able to find it, so you're good. Can we go –" He was interrupted by a long coughing fit that left his gasping for breath.

"Sir, it sounds like we need to get you back to Atlantis," said Lorne.

Ronon reached down and John grabbed his hand so the big guy could pull him to his feet. "Need to make one stop first," John said as Ronon cut the ropes binding his wrists.

"What about them?" asked Ronon, waving his hand toward Edan's men.

John turned to look at them and then put his hands on his hips. "We could just shoot them where they stand." He was almost ashamed of how pleased he was at the look of horror on their faces. "Or we could send them back to Edan with a message. Stop harassing people that come through the gate. There's a whole village of houses you guys could fix up. And there's food if you're willing to work. Lots of cassa root already started if you tend it and harvest it. Fishing is pretty good too."

One of them frowned. "If they're taking you with them, couldn't you take us too?"

John shook his head. "I don't think so. Judging from the way you treated me, I'm thinking you earned the right to be here. Doesn't mean you have to keep living that way." He turned back to his friends, covering his mouth as he coughed again. "Let's go."

"You sure you want to leave them here?" asked Ronon as John stepped into the ship.

John glanced back at the men standing around looking confused. "Yeah, I do. Not much else to do with them, at least for now."

Ronon grinned as he lay his hand on the butt of his gun. "I can think of a thing or two."

John sighed. "Just leave them. They aren't worth the trouble." He shivered as he felt the thrum of Ancient technology run through him. "Let's grab Neran and go home. I need a hot shower, some good food, and a warm, soft bed."

As soon as everyone was settled, they lifted off, flying over the mountain in short order. John had seated himself in the copilot seat so he could give directions as he explained why they were saving Neran in the first place. They hovered over the area where Neran's cave was, but there was nowhere to land. Fighting the tickle in his throat, John pointed toward the river.

"I think there was a small clear spot that might be large enough to land right beside the river." As Lorne threaded the needle to land the ship, John could see Neran standing on the bank of the river. As soon as they landed, Lorne decloaked the ship and Neran jumped back, dropping the water he'd collected.

John limped from the jumper toward Neran, who was staring wide-eyed at the group. "Neran, it's okay. It's me, John."

Neran came forward a few steps to meet him. "Your people, they came for you."

John smiled and looked around at his team. "They did, and just in time too." He frowned, noticing bruises and scratches on Neran's face and neck. "Are you okay?"

Neran nodded. "I am well. Edan's men came through here looking for you. I tried telling them you were following the river to find a new place to make camp. They believed me at first, but when they could not find you . . . " He shrugged his shoulders. "I feared what they would do if they found you. They said Edan was very angry."

"They found me, but these guys swooped in and saved the day," he said proudly. "Anyway, I told you if they came, that you could go back with me."

Neran sighed and shook his head. "I never thought this day would come. I want to leave this place, but if I do, where will I live? I cannot return to Hoffa or to the place that betrayed me and sent me here."

Teyla gripped John's arm and when he looked at her, she raised her eyebrows. He nodded.

Teyla stepped forward and dipped her head once toward Neran. "I am Teyla, of the Athosians. If you would like, my people would be happy to have you. Their numbers are small because of a Wraith named Michael. They . . . they are still recovering from a very tragic event which I can explain in more detail later. I can assure you that you would be welcome."

Neran looked hopeful. "You are sure of this?"

Teyla smiled in that confident way she had when negotiating. "I am certain."

Neran looked around the small clearing and swiped at his eyes. Straightening, he looked at John and smiled. "Then I would be very happy to accompany you away from this place of torment."

John grinned and stepped forward to do the forearm gripping handshake that seemed to be the staple of the Pegasus galaxy. "Need anything from your cave?"

Neran snorted. "No. Maybe the next unlucky soul who ends up there can use something. I don't ever plan on needing any of those things again."

"Let's go, then," John said, leading Neran back to the jumper. John returned to the copilot chair and led Neran to the seat behind him. Lorne cloaked as they lifted off.

"I noticed a bunch of guys hanging around the gate," said Lorne.

"Yeah," John said. "This planet's welcome wagon. They offer you a chance to join their gang and then take everything you brought with you as a donation to their cause. If you refuse, they beat the snot out of you and take it anyway."

"So now we know what you did on day one," said Rodney.

John nodded. "I'm afraid so. If you aren't cooperative, they apparently send people after you. And if you kill those guys, they keep coming after you."

They stopped in front of the gate and hovered. Still cloaked, they watched Edan's gang below. Aware that something had come through earlier, they were keeping watch. Lorne turned to look at John. "What do you want to do, sir?"

"Dial it up, but don't contact Atlantis yet." John watched as the wormhole whooshed into existence. The men gathered around, waiting on someone to come through. John grinned and put himself on speaker.

"You will need to step back from the gate or risk being injured. I would suggest you stop robbing people when they come through the gate. We'll be watching."

The men below backed up, looking all around for the source of the voice. John grinned and nodded at Lorne. Lorne returned the smile and shook his head as he activated the radio.

"Jumper three to Atlantis. We have the package and are ready to return."

After a moment, Lorne nodded and lowered the jumper to sit right in front of the gate, deactivating the cloak at the last second before they went through. As soon as they materialized on the other side, he told them to raise the shield in case anyone tried to follow them.

A few minutes later, the ship docked in the jumper bay and Lorne lowered the ramp. "Welcome home, sir."

John nodded at Lorne. He was tired and hungry and sick, but he was home. "Thank you, major. It's really, really good to be home. I was kind of starting to think . . . " John cleared his throat as he trailed off and that started another coughing fit.

Lorne winced and nodded. "Sounds like your first stop needs to be the infirmary."

John finally stopped coughing and looked up to find everyone staring at him. Rubbing his hand through his long, unruly and dirty hair, he shrugged and got to his feet. "Come on, guys. I really need a shower."

Grimacing, Rodney stepped back to let him by. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but since you did I'll have to agree with you. Personal hygiene took a back seat while you were stranded."

John grinned sheepishly as he went by. "No running water. Or indoor facilities. Bathing was a little tricky, especially since it was winter."

Frowning, Rodney slapped his hand over his eyes. "Too much information, Sheppard. Jennifer will have to hose you down before she lets you in."

"Don't listen to him, colonel," said Jennifer Keller, grinning at the base of the ramp. "It's good to have you back."

"Thanks, doc," said John. "I hope you've got a butt load of Tylenol, because I'm going to need them. This is Neran. He's been on that stinking planet for years, so you're going to want to give him a once over too. Neran, this is Dr. Keller."

Neran smiled and nodded. "Nice to meet you Dr. Keller."

Jennifer eyed them both. "It doesn't look like anyone needs a ride to the infirmary."

John and Neran shared a look and shook their heads. "We can make it," said John. He coughed so hard that Ronon latched onto his arm to keep him from falling over. "But we should head that way while I still can walk," said John.

As they headed down the corridor, John heard Woolsey talking to Lorne. He'd let Lorne pass on what he'd told him and what had happened. He knew he'd have to fill in a lot more later, but it could wait. Right now he was tired and hungry and sick. After the last three months, the infirmary was sounding pretty good right now.

oOo

The next several hours were a blur. There was coughing, weighing, scanning, blood draws and IVs. At some point they let John take a quick shower, probably because he smelled so badly and it was hard to differentiate the dirt from the injuries. Eventually he was settled in clean scrubs between clean sheets and he thought maybe he was in heaven. He still needed a shave and a haircut, but that could wait.

Apparently he dozed off, because John found himself waking to his team surrounding his bed as well as the addition of an oxygen clip and nasal cannula. His chest felt heavy, his head ached, and nose itched. Blinking heavily, he fought the tickle building in his throat. He was so tired of coughing.

"Hey, he's awake," said Rodney, looking up from his computer. Teyla jumped up and began raising the head of the bed while Ronon yelled for Keller. Literally. John winced and frowned at the Satedan, who grinned at him unrepentantly.

The tickle finally won and John coughed until tears streamed down his face. Someone finally stuck a straw to his mouth and he drank until they pulled it away. He pulled on his oxygen, breathing heavily for several moments before his bronchial tubes quit having spasms. Wiping his face, he looked around at the tired, worried faces of his teammates.

"Let me take a listen, colonel," said Keller, pulling her stethoscope out. After a few minutes of listening to his chest and back, taking his blood pressure, and checking his IV, she stood back and looked at him. "How do you feel?"

John shifted in the bed, appreciating it more than he could ever remember. "Happy to be home. Wasn't sure I'd ever get to come back."

Keller smiled and gripped his arm a moment. "We're glad to have you back. It was a long three months trying to find you. What happened to your leg?"

John noticed for the first time that a pillow was under his knee, elevating his leg. He thought he could feel a cold pack on it. "I fell pretty hard a few days after I got there. Bruised it so bad I could barely walk for a while. Then I fell again the other day. And Edan's idiots kept knocking me down so . . . somehow I kept landing on that one spot."

"It looks like that first hit caused a very deep bone bruise. The later hits damaged tissue that had been healing and caused some radiating hairline fractures in the proximal anterior end of the tibia." She sighed at their looks of confusion. "He has tiny cracks in the top part of the shin bone and some bruising of that as well as surrounding soft tissue."

Rodney threw his hands up in the air. "Why didn't you just say that?" John chuckled. He'd missed this almost as much as indoor plumbing and regular food supplies.

With an eye roll, Jennifer continued. " _Anyway,_ you'll be off it for a few days. Even after you are released, you'll need to limit time on your feet and elevate that leg as much as possible. You need to give it time to heal properly or you could be looking at problems down the road. Other than that, you're malnourished and you've lost some weight, as I'm sure you're aware. Nothing some vitamins and good meals can't fix."

John grinned. "Looking forward to those good meals. I'm a little tired of fish, alien squirrel, and cassa root."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "That's all you ate for three months?"

John shrugged his shoulder. "I had a few fruits and greens scattered in there, but most of the time that's all that was available. It was late fall when I arrived and winter by the time you guys got there. Well, you saw. Not much in the way of fruits and vegetables growing in the winter. Most of the time I was just happy to not be hungry."

Ronon nodded in understanding. "Sometimes you eat for survival, not for pleasure. I had to eat plethurian bloodworms once to keep from starving."

John winced. He had no idea what those were, but they sounded horrid. Even Teyla frowned and looked disturbed. "I never had to resort to anything like that. I'm just glad Teyla and Ronon had introduced me to cassa root or I probably would have starved. Several of the homes in the abandoned village had it growing in their back yard. Saved me on more than one occasion."

Teyla smiled and bowed her head once. "I am glad that the knowledge we shared with you was useful. I am also happy that you were paying attention."

"Hey, I pay attention," John said defensively.

Raising one eyebrow, Teyla's eyes flickered to Rodney. "Not everyone values our experiences with things of such a _primitive_ nature."

Rodney sighed. "Fine, I'll pay more attention next time. But what are the odds of me being alone in the woods long enough to be forced to scavenge for food?"

John looked at Rodney, his expression sober. "I don't know. What are the odds of me being banished to a secret semi-uninhabited planet with no DHD?"

"What are the odds of being captured by the Wraith and made a runner?" asked Ronon.

Tilting her head, Teyla added in her two cents worth. "How many times have we been cut off from the gate, sometimes for days? If teammates are injured or if we are separated –"

Rodney threw up his hands. "Fine, I get it. I'll pay more attention to the nature lessons next time."

"That's all we ask," said John. "By the way, how did you guys find me?"

Rodney slumped in his chair. "We didn't."

John narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean you didn't find me? I'm here, aren't I? If this is a dream, please, please do not wake me up."

Teyla set her hand on John's bicep. "I believe what Rodney means to say is that we were told where to find you."

"Look, I'm sorry," said Rodney, jumping to his feet to pace around the bed. "We sent teams to every world where people don't hate us and try to kill us on sight to see if they had any information. I checked and double-checked the database looking for any sign of where they could have sent you. We just . . . we weren't getting anywhere." He stopped at the foot of the bed and brought his eyes up to meet John's. "I told you I'd find you and I didn't. I'm sorry."

John frowned and cocked his head. "You did everything you could do. I knew you would. And I knew it was going to be practically impossible to find me under those circumstances. But I always knew if there was a way, you'd find it. And I knew you'd never stop trying." He grinned. "And you did. So what happened? Tell . . . " John's voice had gotten more and more scratchy until he finally erupted into a coughing fit that went on for a while.

Teyla raised the bed some more to support John as he leaned forward and coughed. Jennifer had wandered off during their discussion of edible native flora and fauna, but she rushed back in at the sound of John's hacking. When the spell finally passed and John felt like he could breathe again, Teyla offered him a cup of water.

"Slowly," Jennifer advised as he began to drink. John forced himself to drink slowly, the cool water soothing the tickle and burn in his throat. Handing her the empty cup a few seconds later, he leaned his head back against the pillow.

"Okay, I think that's enough. Colonel Sheppard needs to rest. Plus, all this talking is making him cough worse. Everyone out."

John sat up and shook his head. "No, let them stay." He spoke so forcefully that it made him cough a few more seconds.

"Colonel, I think you've had enough excitement for one day. You need to rest," said Jennifer in her stern _I'm the doctor_ tone of voice.

John frowned and looked away for a second while he gathered his courage to be honest. With a deep breath, he looked back at Jennifer, meeting her eyes. "Please, let them stay. I've had no one to talk to in so long. I need . . . " Biting his lip, he looked away again, surprised by the strength of the emotions battering him.

When he turned back, Jennifer's expression had softened. "I didn't think about that," she said softly. "You were alone for most of the time, weren't you?"

John nodded, afraid to try to speak. He couldn't trust his voice not to crack like the rest of him seemed to be doing. Jennifer smiled and patted his hand. "I'll make a deal. They can stay if you let them do the talking and limit your own. And let yourself sleep when you're ready. Lie back and relax and don't fight sleep when it comes."

"I will," John mumbled in a rough voice. "Thanks." He looked her in the eye, willing her to see how grateful he was. He was rewarded with a big grin.

"Just remember, I'll be checking up on you. Enjoy your team, colonel. And welcome home." She turned around and pointed to his team. "I'm trusting you guys to keep him quiet and let him sleep when he needs it." At their nods and verbal assurances, she left, pulling the privacy curtain partially closed as she went.

John and his team stared at each other a minute. He was reassuring himself they were really there and he got the impression they were doing the same. Finally breaking the silence, he carefully cleared his throat and said, "So tell me how you found me."

After they had pulled their chairs closer and gotten settled, they took turns telling John everything they could remember from each of their perspectives. They were in the middle of telling about tracking his subcutaneous transmitter on the planet when his eyes closed and he couldn't make them open again. He heard a little more of the story, but at some point the words became white noise and faded out altogether as he drifted into a deep sleep.

oOo

Jennifer stretched and yawned, deciding she was going to turn the infirmary over to Dr. Middleton and get some much needed sleep. She had stayed with Sheppard all night after he'd been found, afraid if she left him in someone else's care, she'd come back to find him gone again. Atlantis had been a different place without him. The only thing she could compare it to was the loss of Elizabeth and no one was prepared to suffer through such a devastating loss again.

Shutting her computer, she decided Sheppard wasn't going anywhere so she might as well get some rest. Now to convince his team that they should do the same. They'd been insistent about staying with him, especially after he'd woken up that morning. After his comment about being alone most of the three months he'd been missing, she knew she couldn't deprive him of the company of his team. It was for their welfare as well. She'd seen them looking at him like they thought it was a dream and he'd disappear any moment. After spending the day with him, maybe they'd at least take turns.

When she got there, she was surprised to find only Rodney there, typing away on his computer. He looked up and smiled. "Surprise. We worked it out on our own. I'm taking first watch and Ronon is relieving me in a few hours." He looked over at the colonel and sighed. "I know he's tired and sick and will probably sleep through the night, but we just couldn't take a chance of him waking up and being here by himself. He's done enough of that lately."

Jennifer nodded as she touched Rodney's shoulder. "I know. I think he'd appreciate that. I can't imagine having no one but myself to talk to for that long."

"Me either. I'd have lost my mind," he said as he watched her checking on Sheppard. "Who am I kidding. I'd have starved to death by now. They were right. I don't pay attention to things like you can eat this, but you can't eat that and other words of wisdom for living off the land."

Jennifer finished her exam without waking Sheppard and checked his IV line before turning back to the sad expression on the scientist's face. "Rodney, we all have our strengths and our weaknesses. It's a good thing I was with Teyla on that planet or I'd have been dead for sure. You and I . . . we're not really cut out for that stuff."

Rodney's face brightened and he grinned. "I guess that's why we get along so well."

Jennifer grabbed his hand and squeezed. "Exactly. Colonel Sheppard seems fine for now. I'm going to turn in, but Dr. Middleton is around and will be checking on him. Get him if the colonel starts having any problems but don't give him a hard time. He's a good doctor."

Rodney rolled his eyes, but nodded when she squeezed his hand a little harder and glared at him. "Fine, I won't scare off the night shift witch doctor."

Jennifer smiled sweetly. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow and don't drink too much coffee."

"As if," Rodney mumbled under his breath before giving her a quick kiss. "See you tomorrow and . . . thanks . . . for, you know, taking care of the colonel."

"No problem. We're all glad to have him back, Rodney. And don't worry, he's going to be fine. Good night."

"Night," Rodney said as he sat back down and picked up his computer.

Jennifer found Dr. Middleton to let him know she was leaving and that one member of Sheppard's team would be staying with him. As she left, she stopped briefly in the doorway, watching Rodney. He was sitting in the chair staring at John for several moments before he seemed to realize what he was doing. He said something to the sleeping man and waved one hand in the air before going back to his computer. After a few moments, Sheppard shifted in his sleep and began moving around restlessly. Rodney began softly talking as he typed, every so often looking up at his friend. Within a couple of minutes, the colonel was sleeping quietly again. Jennifer smiled, grateful for all of them that the team was back together.

oOo

John set his tray on the table across from Rodney. "Hey, McKay," he said as he sat down. He'd been out of the infirmary for a week. He only limped when he'd been on his feet for too long. He was mostly over his bout of almost pneumonia except for a remnant cough that refused to go away. It mostly reared its ugly head at night or if he talked too much.

Rodney looked up. "Oh, hey. You on light duty yet?"

John sighed and shook his head. "Jennifer said I could start half-days in a couple of days. I'm bored out of my mind. Got anything I could help you with in the lab?"

Rodney was already shaking his head. "No, no, no. When you get yourself into trouble overdoing it, I do not want to be involved. The last time you . . . oh, hey, Teyla and Ronon are back."

John looked over his shoulder to where Rodney had been pointing with his fork. Sure enough, the two missing team members were walking in the mess hall doors. John waved at them and Teyla waved back to show she'd seen them. John turned back to Rodney, who jerked his hand back. "Were you trying to steal my pie?" asked John, moving the dessert to the other side.

Rodney put on his best _I'm guilty as sin but trying to look innocent_ expression. "Why would you think that?"

"You know, stealing food from a half starved man is kind of low."

Rodney snorted. "Oh, please, you were not half starved. You lost a few pounds and had some vitamin deficiencies."

John raised his eyebrows a little. "And yet Dr. Keller seems quite concerned about the lack of proper nourishment on my health. What would she think if I told her you were stealing food off my plate?"

Rodney looked at him blankly. "Go back through the line?"

John was about to reply when Ronon and Teyla arrived, setting their plates on the table. John pulled out the chair next to him for Teyla to sit down. "How was your visit?"

Teyla smiled and gave him a short nod. "Thank you. My people are well and Halling sends greetings from him and Jinto. They are very happy that you are back and doing well."

John grinned. "Good, I'm glad their new home is working out. Did they get the crops planted?"

"They did. Even though their numbers are small, with the help provided by Atlantis personnel, they are expecting a bountiful crop. We cannot thank you and Mr. Woolsey enough for your aid."

"Hey, no problem. Since we kind of created the whole Michael problem it's the least we could do for them. Did you get to see Neran?"

"We did get to visit with Neran. He has established a home and seems to be doing very well. I believe he will fit in well with my people."

Ronon grinned. "He and Halling are already trading wine recipes and plotting to try out some new combinations."

"Really?" John said. He chewed the next bite slowly, thinking about the new information. "You know, since Jennifer won't let me on duty yet, maybe I should go check on Neran myself."

Rodney clanged his fork against his plate. "Really? They start working on wine-making plans and suddenly you need to go for a visit?"

John shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just now better enough I think Jennifer would think about letting me go. Besides, I already told you I was bored out of my mind and you refused to help me." After a moment, he said, "I wonder if Halling could make beer?"

Ronon perked up at that. "He'd probably be willing to try. I think Neran would like beer. Not too sure about Holling though."

John nodded. "It'd be worth a shot to ask. I'll check with Jennifer after lunch. Why don't we all go, like a team outing. It's been a while since we all did something together."

Everyone grimaced, remembering the reason why it had been so long since they'd done anything as a team. John had finally gotten to where he didn't crave company every minute of the day, but he still didn't like being alone for long periods. Sometimes he'd just go somewhere where there were people so he could hear their voices.

While Ronon and Teyla readily agreed, even though they had just come from New Athos, Rodney made a face like he'd rather go to the dentist. John was a little disappointed and waited for the scientist to say he was too busy. But Rodney swallowed his bite and sat looking at John for a moment until John began to get uncomfortable. "Fine, I'll go."

John opened his mouth and then closed it again and frowned. "Wait . . . did you just agree to go?"

Rodney sighed and rolled his eyes. "Yes, you were sitting right here. Do you need a hearing aid or something? I'll go."

John grinned, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "Thanks, Rodney." It was ridiculous how excited he was, not only to be with his team but also to have something to do. And he was looking forward to seeing how Neran was settling in. "if Jennifer says it's okay, which I think she will, I'll clear it with Woolsey."

Rodney just waved his hand as he stabbed another bite of meat. "We have to keep an eye on you. Can't have you going missing again, even if it's not by your own choice." Rodney sobered and looked at John. "This place . . . well, it isn't the same without you."

Teyla smiled, but her eyes were a little watery as she lay her hand over his. "Rodney is right. It was as though something important was missing and the city could not function as well without it."

Ronon gave a quick nod. "What they said."

John felt his chest and throat tighten, but it had nothing to do with his health. "I missed you guys too. I missed Atlantis, but I really, really missed you guys. It's good to be home."

John smiled in contentment. Atlantis was his home and these people were his family. He'd do everything in his power to never leave them again. If home is where the heart is, then home was definitely here with these people.

THE END


End file.
